by Loki Renard
Celeste took a deep breath to calm herself and felt some of the fear and outrage slipping away. With her eyes closed, the bars disappeared completely. She was simply lying in comfortable surroundings, sinking into soft bedding that soon lulled her tired body into a brief snippet of sleep.
* * *
She woke up a little later to the unpleasant sensation of her stomach growling. She was very hungry, and she knew why. She had not eaten since putting the dress on many, many hours earlier, and no food had been provided since Alistair had taken her captive. Usually she had unfettered access to all the food she liked, both fresh and real, and synthesized treats that could be called up on demand, as sweet or as rich as one liked. Her mouth watered as she imagined sinking her teeth into a rich chocolate cake, or even some kind of simple fruit, for that matter. Anything would have done in that moment. She got up and sipped a little water from the tap in the rear portion of the cage, but it did not do much to stop the rumbling in her stomach.
Just when she was certain she would starve there in the cage, the main door to Alistair’s quarters slid open. Her heart skipped a beat. She was almost ashamed to discover that she was excited to see Alistair’s tall, powerful form coming through the doorway. She had only known him for a matter of hours and she was already becoming attached to him in a visceral way that made her extremities quiver and her heart flutter.
He approached her with a confident stride, a warm expression on his face. He did not look at her as a cruel captor might and once again, her traitorous heart was very tempted to fall for this man who seemed so pleased to see her, and yet had her locked behind bars. It was all too confusing for Celeste to process, especially on an empty stomach.
“Hello, pet.” He drawled the embarrassing term down at her as she tried her best to look composed in a very compromising position, pulling her sheet-dress over her body to preserve some modesty.
She was excited to see that he had not come to her empty-handed. He held a bowl much like the water bowl in her cage in his hands and it was absolutely heaped with a delicious-smelling meat stew. Celeste felt her mouth begin to water as he opened the door and crouched down in front of the cage, a smirk on his handsome face.
“Ready for dinner?”
Celeste was instantly suspicious. This was not how dinner was conducted where she was from.
“Yes…?” she responded guardedly.
“Then the next stage of your training is about to begin,” he said, making her all the more certain that she had something to worry about. She watched warily as he swung the cage door open, the bowl of stew in his hand.
“A pet must eat from her master’s bowl,” he said, putting the bowl down on the cage floor.
“Does a pet get a spoon?”
“What do you need a spoon for? A spoon is something that separates you from the primal act of consuming what I have given you.”
She looked at him askance. There were many strange customs on Vector Prime and this was probably one of them. She tried to put her mind into a more diplomatic role, appeasing the native with a show of appreciation for his ways.
Celeste reached for the bowl, but before her hands made contact with it, Alistair made a tutting sound. “The bowl stays on the floor, pet.”
She sighed and reached for a piece of meat with her fingers. It would be messy but not impossible to eat.
“No fingers,” he chided. “A pet eats with her mouth and nothing else.”
“That’s just… stupid!” Celeste exploded in frustration. “I am not going to eat on my hands and knees like some domestic…”
“…pet?” He finished her sentence for her. “But that’s precisely what you are, Celeste. You fail to understand what anything I have said or done to you really means. This you cannot ignore.”
She clamped her lips closed and glared at him from what was beginning to feel like the safety of her cage. He wanted her to lower herself before him, and that she would not do.
“I will starve before I eat from a bowl,” she said, taking pride in her resistance. “I am no pet, no matter what you do. You may beat me. You may cage me. You may take pleasure in my body, but I will never submit to that humiliation.”
“What will be more humiliating,” Alistair said, cocking his head to the side. “Eating from the bowl, or being force fed?”
“You wouldn’t…” She knew already that he would, so her voice trailed off. “Force feed me if you will. I will not eat from the bowl.”
“Mhm.” His smile spread a little. “I’m enjoying your stubborn streak, Celeste. You’re making this an interesting challenge.”
He put the bowl to the side, reached into the cage, and clamped his hand on the collar around her neck. His grasp made it easy for him to pull her out, crawling on hands and knees before him. He led her like that across the room, keeping her in the animal position until they came to a halt beside the bed. The sheet she had fashioned into a dress slid off her body along the way, leaving her naked aside from her collar. Alistair sat down on the edge of his bed and she kneeled beside him—out of necessity, not choice. He had picked the bowl up before leading her from the cage and the smell of the food so physically near and yet ideologically lightyears away was making her stomach growl very audibly.
“You are hungry,” he observed, his voice slightly softer than before. “And you will need your strength to keep fighting me.”
“I am not going to bury my face in a bowl,” Celeste said stoically.
He put the food down in front of her, just a foot away. Steam slowly rose from the delicious stew, but still she resisted.
“Eat, pet,” he ordered.
She shook her head, but it was fast becoming a matter she had no control over. His hand was on the back of her neck and he used his grip to press her forward, her face lowering toward the bowl until she was only an inch or so away from the food.
“Be a good girl and eat,” he said, his cajoling tones at odds with the hard grip on the back of her neck. “Just a little taste.”
Held in a position that did not offer her any option other than to look at and smell the food, Celeste started to feel tempted. All she needed to do was extend her tongue and she would be able to taste it. It would fill her belly, but not the lower, inner void that was starting to throb in response to being handled by Alistair.
Why did this turn her on? It shouldn’t! She was pinned in place, and being asked to debase herself for food. She should have been angry or frightened. Instead her clit was beginning to pulse with fresh need and she found her body beginning to obey almost in spite of her mind’s frantic attempts to regain control over the senses that were running away with her.
Before she knew what she was doing, she had extended her tongue and lapped at the sauce. It was rich and protein-filled and slightly salty and she let out a little sound of pleasure.
“Food and fucking are so similar,” Alistair purred above her. “The body knows what it wants and the mind is left to rationalize and make excuses for base desires. Eat, my pet. Do not deny your body what it needs.”
Celeste took a bite of the stew. It was not easy to eat without a spoon and she felt a little hot dab of it on her nose, but with each bite she found her stomach feeling fuller and a sense of well-being sinking through her body.
Alistair kept his hand on the back of her neck at first, but as she started to eat as he desired, he began running his hand over her neck and down her back, petting her with soothing, encouraging strokes. She did not eat a lot, perhaps five or six mouthfuls before a flush of shame rushed over her body at the realization of what she was doing. As soon as the hunger abated, sense returned, and along with it, her principles.
“No,” she muttered, squirming. “No more.”
“A little late for principled rebellion,” Alistair murmured. “But if you are done with the main course, it is time for dessert.”
He put the bowl to the side and once more used her collar to position her so she was nestled between his spread thighs. He he
ld her in place with one hand and slid the fastening of his pants down, exposing the length of his very erect, thick, long cock.
“Dessert?” He smiled down at her, apparently pleased with his play on words.
Celeste let out a groan. “Truly,” she said. “You may beat me, cage me, but spare me crass sexual puns.”
Alistair chuckled. “You’re right,” he said. “That is taking it too far. I apologize.”
She smiled, and for a moment there was more space and air in the room. Their roles seemed to evaporate. He was no warlord, she no captive. They were simply two people sharing a moment of mirth. It did not last long.
“Suck me, pet,” he growled. “I want to feel your mouth around me.”
She opened her mouth to object, but no objection managed to emerge before he pressed his hips forward and pulled her closer and his manhood slid hot and hard over her tongue, bringing with it a new flavor. Her mouth was full of him, her lips wrapping around his shaft in some long-lost instinct that likewise made her tongue lap against the underside of his rock-hard cock. Sucking was an innate response that rose in her almost immediately. It was as if her lips and tongue not only knew what to do, they were pleased to do it.
Celeste had not performed such a service many times in her life, thinking it too degrading an act for a woman of her station to perform. She had always been the recipient of oral pleasure, which usually came in stilted, uncertain fashion. There was nothing uncertain about Alistair though. He told her what he wanted and then he made it happen.
With his hand locked in place at her collar, he slid her lips back and forth along the shaft of his cock, slowly fucking her mouth. The sensation of having the ridges of his cock, the flared head, the upstanding veins passing over her wet, sensitive tongue was more erotic than she could have imagined.
Some embarrassment remained at being effectively gagged with his manhood and being compelled to service him, but her body was responding rapidly and eagerly to the task. There was a tingling in her pussy and a hardening of the bud of her clit as it grew enough to poke out from its hood, the sensitive little nub reacting to even the slightest breezes in the room as the inner walls of her pussy clenched instinctively.
There was something primal and satisfying about having him in her mouth. She could feel every inch of him in a way she never could have done with any other part of her body. Her mouth was sensitive to every little pulse of his cock, her tongue exploring him with tender lapping motions that seemed to please him and earning drops of salty pre-cum as its reward.
As she obeyed his will, Alistair’s fingers ran through her hair. He looked down at her with an expression that was difficult to read, but seemed to contain pleasure and maybe some wonder as well. Maybe he was surprised by her willingness to take him that way. His surprise could not have been greater than her own. She could feel her nipples hardening, and there was a temptation to slide her hand down between her thighs and play with herself. She didn’t dare do it; instead her need for satisfaction translated to a fixation on him. His musk, the taste of the gleaming drops of excitement that gleamed at the flared head of his manhood, the heat and girth of his shaft all became the focus of her senses.
* * *
Immediately following the governor’s attack, Alistair had decided not to tell Celeste about it. She probably wouldn’t believe him anyway. Right now, his priority was training her. Getting caught up in pity and being soft with her would only lead to more chaos down the line.
Rebellious pets were often shown the error of their ways with a good mouth fucking. When Celeste had refused to eat her food and made it necessary for him to not just lead her to the bowl, but make her eat from it, Alistair had decided she would be taking his cock in her mouth by way of teaching her a lesson. He had expected resistance, squirming, perhaps even the need for punishment, but as she slid her lips back and forth along the shaft of his cock, her tongue wrapping around him with eager lapping strokes, he no longer saw any need for discipline. She was performing for him precisely as he had ordered, and with a desire in her pretty eyes that could not be faked. She was more hungry for his cock than she had been for the food.
Alistair was pleased, and somewhat confused. Surely she was not capitulating so easily? No. He could not mistake this for her becoming obedient. The look in her eyes was not one of submission. It was of hunger. She was enjoying herself. That was it. She wanted his cock and in that moment, at least, she didn’t care how she got it. Just as he had predicted, her feminine nature was coming to the fore. He had freed something inside her, the part of her that wanted to be wild and carnal and uninhibited. He knew then that he could fuck her as he pleased and she would thrill to it.
Alistair wrapped his hand in her hair and began thrusting his hips forward, holding her head still so she no longer had control as to how her mouth was fucked. He expected her to whimper or struggle, but again she surprised him. Instead of wriggling in his grasp, she doubled down, clamping her lips tight around his cock and running her tongue under the head of his cock in a way that struck him as skilled.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you,” he growled. “How many men have you sucked this way? How many times have you knelt before one of your father’s rivals and taken him in your hot little mouth?”
He pulled his cock out of her mouth long enough for her to answer.
“Never,” she breathed, her cheeks pink.
“Never taken a man in your mouth, or never one of your father’s rivals?”
“I did not whore myself,” she said, bristling. “Ever.”
“And yet you’re so eager with me,” he growled. “Because nobody ever took charge of you this way, did they? You’ve been Daddy’s little pawn. A sexless sex icon. Poor girl. No wonder you’re so desperate…”
He jerked his hips back and tightened his grip on her hair just as she snapped her teeth together, barely missing his cock. Alistair let out a growl. That behavior would absolutely not be tolerated.
“Naughty pet,” he chastised her roughly, drawing her to her feet only to cast her face-first onto the bed. She bounced a little as she landed, the soft bedding breaking her fall. It was the last soft thing she would feel, Alistair was determined in that regard.
He took a leather belt sitting on the nightstand, looped the clasp around his hand, and began lashing the free end across her bottom and upper thighs. She had tried to assault his manhood. There could be no mercy for such an action. It was not the first time she had attempted to hurt him; there was still a light scratch on his chest from her first attack.
It was ironic, he thought as he thrashed her squirming bottom and thighs. In truth, Celeste had done more damage than her father ever had. She was a far greater warrior and much braver soul, but Alistair had to take the option of aggression toward her master off the table for his pet. If her sharp teeth had made contact with his member… he shuddered at the thought.
Though he dealt with her thoroughly, perhaps even harshly, Alistair did not bear Celeste any ill will for what she had done. Her temper had gotten the better of her and she had sought vengeance. A true warrior’s soul was trapped in the soft, squirming body of the young woman writhing beneath him, welts rising amid the splashes of hot pink.
It was dangerous, the admiration that was beginning to rise in him. She almost certainly hated him, as much as she desired him. He had put her through humiliation and punishment. He had given her a place lower than that of a slave. It had been a hard fall from grace for his prisoner and it had now taken a worse turn for her whimpering form.
“Never. Ever. Try that again,” he growled at her. “Never think of it again.”
He kept the belt in motion for several minutes. There was no need to lash her brutally or use more than a fraction of his strength. The snapping motion of the leather against her tender skin did the work for him. Little by little, it broke the stoic resistance with which she had first taken her punishment. She started to gasp first, her breath hissing through her teeth. Then he
heard a barely discernible whimper, which grew to a whine as the belt landed for the several-dozenth time.
“You know better than to bite, don’t you, pet? Or do I need to muzzle you? Will you spend your days sinking your teeth into leather while I train your pretty pussy and bottom for my pleasure?”
He expected a plea for clemency in response to his threat. Instead, he was almost certain he heard a tiny, almost hidden, moan. His brows rose high, his hand stilling as he realized that his pet had a capacity for submission far beyond his imagination. He looked down at her spread thighs, her hot, wriggling bottom, and below it her already well fucked pussy gleaming with fresh arousal.
Alistair felt a certain sense of pity for her. This was a passionate woman, a woman who needed to be loved hard and fully. Instead she had been paraded around and given herself to the most insipid of lovers. She was not a total innocent, but she may as well have been. To think that if her father had carried out his plan successfully, she would have been no more… Alistair felt a rush of protective desire for the little brat whose bottom was wriggling red beneath him.
“Maybe that’s exactly what you need,” he growled, pushing the edge of her desire further. “Maybe you need to be deprived of the powers of your mouth except when I decide it should be filled…”
Another little moan escaped her mouth and fled into the bedding. There was no doubt about it. Thrashing her served to turn her on. Alistair’s cock was still hard from her mouth, and seeing her react so wantonly to his discipline, he became even harder. He took a moment just to look down at her and perhaps try to clear his head. Then her hips bucked and he saw the length of her slit gleaming with feminine dew, her lower lips parting in anticipation of intercourse. Her body knew. His body knew. There was no point fighting it.
Alistair cast the belt aside, knelt up on the bed, and thrust himself hard inside her with one rough, punishing stroke. Her pussy engulfed him in a wet welcome, completely removing any idea that she was suffering under his discipline.
