When…if I ever got back, I’d spare no effort to see them pay. Even if it cost me my life.
The table stopped, and so did the humming. Thank God. A section of the wall in front of us dissolved, and I glided inside. As I lay there, the muted, colorful light from the corridor cut off leaving me in the dark.
And still unable to move.
Terror rose, along with my gorge, and I choked on bile, trying not to suffocate, and unable to do a damn thing about it.
I didn’t die. Somehow, I pulled it together enough to relax, stop struggling, and let the bile burn its way back down my throat, leaving a sour, bitter taste. If I was going to survive this, I had to stop panicking and losing control. I couldn’t see any way to make it home, but it was early days yet.
So, I did the only thing possible. I lay still and tried to absorb my surroundings. It was dark. And quiet. So that made vision and hearing fairly useless, for the time being. And my sense of touch gave me only the hard surface beneath me. A little cooler than I preferred, as was the air temperature, but not terrible. And taste…the sourness abated, but otherwise, that sense had no other data to provide.
Smell. The sense I’d thought the least about in my life offered my brain the only data available under the circumstances. Unlike the dungeon/storeroom where I’d last been imprisoned, this room had no lingering odor of mildew or decaying fabrics. It smelled clean, as if someone had used some sort of chemical to cleanse either the compartment itself or maybe the air I inhaled. But atop that, a faint scent of spice. One I could not quite identify, like a combination of sweet and hot spices. Cinnamon and chili? Not exactly. Add in a little nutmeg and cardamom, maybe.
Unique.
Not of this world. Or rather, of the world from which I came. A single tear spilled and slid down my cheek to puddle in my ear. It itched. Damn. I tried to blink, only to realize I couldn’t even do that. This was a whole new level of torture.
Then light spilled over me, and everything came into focus.
“I hope you haven’t been waiting long, female.” His face loomed over me, a grayish tone to the skin, stern cast to his features. “Alas, my duties are many and varied, and impregnating you could not take first place.”
I screamed inside. This met and exceeded the horrors of the ancient alien-invasion movies currently popular on Terra
He circled my table, eyeing me with clinical detachment. “You’re small. I have voiced the concern that our young may split you asunder before they reach birthing size, but there’s no help for it, I suppose. Your leaders are not going to trade for some full-sized females.” He peered at my face and cupped my chin, prying open my mouth. “Good teeth. That bodes well for our young, even if they might not be the size we would wish.”
The bastard! Anger roiled up, and I’d never wanted anything so much as to spit in his face. I wanted to tell him that I hoped I would split asunder before his hideous implanted offspring could grow in my womb.
“I suppose we can only hope that our own superior genetics will prevail.” For the first time, his demeanor held a hint of humor as he released my face and lifted a lock of my hair between his fingers then wrapped it around his fist. “As of course, it will.” He gave a tug.
I whimpered, on the inside, since whatever held me bound prevented even that much sound.
“Now, let’s get to business. I will fuck you; you will give birth to my young and care for them. I ask nothing more of you and will accept nothing less.”
Lucky I was already speechless. The arrogance!
“If you agree to this and to behave, I will release the force fields and you may participate in our mating. If not, things may become problematic after a while. I have lessened them enough for you to state your consent.”
I didn’t know what he meant, exactly. That it would be problematic to rape me while held in place by a force field? Or that perhaps I would eventually starve like this? Dehydrate? I could see no advantage to remaining thus…and saw no sin in lying to anyone who would rape and enslave me. So I cleared my throat and forced out the words, “I agree.”
He stared at me, waiting, and struggled to think why…
Oh.
“I agree, Master.”
Why did it bother me to say so? As if I gave up a part of myself to him in this way. He would rape me in any case, and I would in no way participate in my own ravishing. I would just lie here and think of something else. What had I read once…think of England? A country that hadn’t existed for hundreds of years but whose literature played a role in my history education.
He leaned close and gave a nod. “Good. Now, it is our tradition to use cybellus to ensure impregnation.” His full lips twisted, and a look of what I’d have described as pain in a human darkened his gray eyes. Then he turned away, and when he turned back, he had a gray substance on his hand. “Let’s get down to business.”
He smeared it on my nipples and between my legs then stepped away and wiped his hands on a small towel while I struggled to move, but he had not yet released me enough to do more than talk.
“Please, may I sit up?” I hesitated. “Master.”
He nodded and, a moment later, helped me to sit on the edge of the table. I’d be on my back again soon enough. But what was with the fertility salve? Some kind of weird alien superstition that…oh God. It began to burn, and I reached to wipe it away, but the admiral whose name I still could not remember grasped my wrists. “No…let it do its job.”
Which was what? I squirmed, my nipples peaking, and worse, my pussy was on fire. I wanted to touch it, to rub it off or to rub it in, something, anything was better than this. “What did you do to me?”
“You did not address me correctly, but I will let it go this time. I believe I told you, it is to help us achieve our goal as quickly as possible.”
I was finally in hell. Which was a place of burning torment that made me want to rip that uniform off the admiral and beg him to fuck me and make this go away. Why did I think it would? Well…the trickle of arousal pooling under me was a good indication. “It’s horrible, it hurts. I can’t stand it.”
“Then it’s working.” Continuing to hold my wrists in one big hand, he used the other to unfasten the front of his uniform and reveal the most alien thing I’d seen so far.
I couldn’t breathe.
His male equipment was not only the biggest I’d ever seen but ended in a number of finger-like appendages, and it was purple, a color quickly spreading over his face and hands, the only other parts of his body I could see. Was it an alien flush?
I scrambled back as far as I could with my wrists held hostage in front of me, that whimper I couldn’t release earlier emerging in full force. “You can’t…not with that…that ugly alien thing!”
As soon as the words fell from my lips, I knew my mistake. His color faded again, and he tucked himself into his pants and gave me a smile that chilled me to my bones. Somehow, the force field returned, and I had no control of my body, which he laid on the table before moving to a desk several feet away and settling in front of it. A screen lit at a spoken command, and he proceeded to ignore me, as if I wasn’t even in the room. He went to work…and I was momentarily not being raped, for which I should be terribly thankful.
But the salve was softening with the warmth of my skin, and my entire body was heating up, all of it, an erotic surge like I’d never felt before making me warm and pliant and desperate, but I was so afraid of that thing. What would it do inside me?
And I had the dreadful notion I’d actually hurt his feelings.
I lay there, suffering for as long as I could, the silent tension holding me in place as much as the force field before he turned around and said, “I will wait for you to beg me to relieve you.” He faced the screen again. “And you will.”
Chapter Four
Dylos
Taming this female might be harder on me than on her.
I breathed in the scent of her arousal, and my cockheads squirmed, desperate to bury th
emselves in her heat. I’d been away on a mission for many mooncycles when our world was destroyed, away from Illora and from our mating. Afterwards, I’d tried to ease my grief a few times with encounters at the Rapture Domes where we stopped, but though they took care of the need, the experiences left me cold and empty.
Her heavy panting, interspersed with tiny moans she tried to stifle, told me the cybellus was having the desired effect. Arythian females reported different reactions to the substance. Some felt warmth that quickly became a hot, burning sensation, one that could only be relieved by a cock rammed deep inside. Others described it as throbbing and pulsing, awakening a wild hunger.
But the ultimate effect was the same. The symptoms created a desperate need that could be satisfied only by prolonged fucking and multiple orgasms.
Over the millennia, females of our species had become harder to impregnate. Unlike other species, Arythian males prided themselves on never taking our females by force. Scientists created cybellus to drive them wild with desire, making them receptive to the long mating sessions required for all of our cockheads to achieve release, increasing the chances of creating offspring.
She whimpered again. I could see her reflection in the screen of my monitor, squirming on the table. The curve of her hip glowed pink where my fingertips had come down on it. My cock stiffened and grew, as I recalled the bright-red imprint my palm made on her ass. I hadn’t been this aroused in a very long time.
I stared unseeing at the information on my screen, my frustration growing. I’d broken the first rule of engaging an enemy in combat by putting myself into a corner. I couldn’t approach her until she begged me, without losing face, and this little human was proving more stubborn than I thought she’d be.
“Please.”
Finally. The faintest whisper, but it was enough to know I’d won.
I made a few meaningless notations on the screen, waiting.
Then it came. “Please…Master.”
I spoke without turning my head. “Please what?”
She sounded breathless. “Please, Master, will you release me? I need to…I need to get this stuff off me.”
“I will release you, but you are forbidden to remove the cybellus. If you do, I’ll punish you again.”
“I’m already being punished. Please! I can’t bear it. It stings and burns. Please, Master…will you wipe it off?”
I sauntered back to the table. She was looking more desirable by the minute, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. I knew I was seeing her through a haze of lust, driven by the intoxicating scent of her pussy, dripping with arousal. Her nipples poked out above the coating of cybellus, puckered into dark-red peaks. I pinched one, and she let out a little cry.
“Dear God, I’ve never felt anything like this! I need…I need…”
My hand drifted lower. Brushed the tip of her jewel. She shuddered.
“Oooh! Oh no please…”
I flipped her onto her side and gave her a stern whack. “Did you just say no? I’ve warned you. If you address me disrespectfully again, I’ll put you against the wall and deliver a proper spanking.”
“I’m sorry, Master! It’s just so…hot and so…oooh!”
Her apology ended in a squeal when I slid a finger into her tight, wet slit.
“Are you ready to take my cock, now?”
“No! I can’t. Your…thing is too big. You’ll hurt me,” she wailed.
I turned away. “Apparently, you need more time with the cybellus.”
“Stop! Come back!”
My patience was at an end. I waved a hand, disengaging the force field, and jerked her off the table. “You think you can give orders to your master? It’s clear you have never been taught how to behave.” Dragging her to the far wall, I slapped her palms against it then pulled her feet back so she was bent at the waist with her ass presented to me. I engaged the field to pin her in place, ignoring a fresh stream of curses, and brought my hand down on her quivering backside with a satisfying thwack.
“Aaah! Stop it, you monster!”
I smacked her again. “I warned you what would happen if you continued to speak to me with disrespect.”
She let out a shriek that set my teeth on edge, and I started spanking her in earnest. “Enough of that noise! I will continue this punishment until you are ready to kneel before me, apologize…and beg for my cock,” I added. It was time she learned how to make amends for her poor behavior like a proper Arythian mate.
“Fuck you!” she yelled.
I nudged her legs apart, got a handful of cybellus, and rubbed it on her ass. Then I parted her rear cheeks and spread it liberally around the tight rim of her anus.
I didn’t think it was possible, but her screams got louder. I resumed the spanking and issued a warning.
“If you don’t stop that hideous shrieking, I’ll coat my finger with more cybellus and slide it up your ass.”
“Oh God no!”
I grabbed her bottom cheeks. Before I could spread them apart again, she dropped her voice and started pleading with me.
“Please, Master, I…I’m sorry. Please don’t put that horrid stuff there!”
I could hear the panic in her voice, and I relented. It wasn’t her fault she’d been raised like a savage. “Show me you can take your punishment in silence and I won’t.”
She choked back a sob. “Y-yes Master. I will. I promise.”
I tested her with a flurry of hard swats. My hand was so large, it covered both her rear cheeks at once. She gasped at each one but kept her word. I resumed the spanking, delivering rhythmic smacks firm enough to drive her up on her toes when they landed.
Without the assault on my eardrums I was able to concentrate on my task. On our world, punishment was a necessary tool to ensure respect and good behavior from Arythian females. I found this form of it served a dual purpose. Having a female strip naked, then watching her curvy ass quiver in anticipation of every stroke made me horny. I’d learned early on that if properly delivered, punishment in the form of a firm spanking aroused the female as well. Timing the strokes, adding a thorough examination of her most intimate parts between whacks as the spanking progressed—by the time I was finished, a female I’d punished that way happily dropped to her knees to apologize, eager to show my cock how repentant she was. I always finished with a good fucking to show that all was forgiven.
Cybellus intensified a spanking. The warming sensation awoke sensitive nerve endings in the skin and made every smack sting a little harder. Combined with a liberal application of it on pussy lips and the tiny jewel above them, pain and pleasure quickly melded together, one feeding the other, driving a female mad with desire.
I could see a reddish glow building on her ass, even through the film of cybellus. With each smack, the substance was driven into my palms, and I felt liquid fire course through my veins the same way I knew it was racing through hers. Her gasps became rhythmic pants, keeping time with the swats, and her hips arched up to meet my hand, displaying enticing deep-pink pussy lips glistening with her juices.
Suddenly, I was the one mad with desire. I unbuttoned my pants, freeing my rigid cock, and stepped between her legs. The heads strained to bury themselves in the wet heat of her core. She gasped as they writhed and twisted against her slick folds.
“Beg me now. Beg me to take you.” I restrained myself from plunging into her long enough to let her utter the words.
“Please, Master, please don’t hurt me! I…I’ve never done this before.”
“Never been claimed in this position? Don’t worry. I’ll see that it doesn’t hurt.” I reached around, toying with her jewel. Rubbing the throbbing bud then trapping it between two fingers and stroking.
She moaned, automatically grinding herself against my hand. “No, I’ve never…never had a man’s cock in me.”
I froze. By the gods, that was the last thing I’d expected to hear.
I stepped back, disengaged the force field, and spun her around so I could look her in the
eye. “You’ve never mated?”
She flinched from my gaze, trembling so hard she could barely speak. “No. N-never.”
She’d called me a monster. Now I understood why.
My honor was at stake. I couldn’t sire offspring by an unwilling mate. On Arythios, a first mating required patience. The male must prepare the female to receive his cock. Arouse her until she welcomed it. Until she begged for it.
I had to show this human how to receive pleasure before teaching her how to give it.
Chapter Five
Trina
He stopped. The tall alien with the monstrous cock—or was it cocks?—stopped. He’d been milliseconds from taking me, from raping me, but, for some reason, he wanted me to beg, to ask him to take me.
My head still spun from the series of betrayals that even got me here, and the cybellus, the stuff that made my most sensitive parts sting and burn and ache in need for something I didn’t understand. But my body understood the only way to ease my suffering was to let him put that thing—things?—in me. My first time, something I’d not put great importance on but had at least expected to be romantic, was going to be, if not a rape, at least a ravishment.
Suddenly, it mattered. It mattered so much my heart ached until I thought it would break. Adding that to the physical discomfort caused by the salve, and I wanted to die. Tears streaked down my face, even as I fought the urge to rub myself against the tall, stern man who currently stared at me as if I’d grown several more heads, a lot like his alien baby-making gear.
“Just do it and get it over with.” What difference could it possibly make? My life stretched out before me, a series of events over which I had no control, far from home, with people I had no connection with. Not that I had anything at home, to speak of. My parents were dead, no siblings, and the only real social life I had was with a group of work friends.
Who, once I’d let slip my virgin status over a Friday night happy-hour pitcher of extra-strong Saturn Delites, had spent the last two years trying to set me up with someone to relieve me of it.
Ravished: A Dark Sci Fi Romance (Centauri Captives Book 2) Page 3
