Betrayed (Hidden Worlds Book 1)

by Bethany Burke

  When the girls began snapping, Suze had muttered something about girls that got their trousers back too quickly and bedtime spankings, and they'd all shut their mouths quickly

  But when the girls rose to leave, I just assumed that I'd leave with them. Unexpectedly, Rohan had said quietly that he wished me to stay. Both of his sisters had blinked in surprise, and Raisa had gone pale. I sensed that only her still stinging, throbbing backside was keeping her quiet. Even Suze looked somewhat taken aback.

  However, in spite of the relaxed ease they had with each other, Rohan was still the prince. No more was said. Rohan kissed his sisters, and turned to Raisa. He nodded quickly and said, "Let me see it." Obediently, she'd bent forward, pulled down her loose trousers, and lifted up her tunic top. Her bottom was still bright red with dark lines glowing everywhere. He delivered one final firm swat to Raisa's bare reddened skin, she jumped, and they all went on their way, with only a few more subtle, but confused, backward glances at me. The door shut with a dull, very final sound. We were alone.

  Chapter 13

  Unlike before, when I had been brought here to wait for the dinner and I knew why I was in his apartments, I now had no clue what I was waiting for. It crossed my mind with brief paranoia that I was to be punished, but I was able to dismiss that at once. In spite of my feeling that the punishments the girls received were horribly severe and unfair, at the same time they seemed to always have some sort of rationalization—feeble though it might be. I had done nothing to gain his disfavor, and I knew it.

  Rohan sat and stared at me. I had convinced myself only moments earlier that I could not possibly be in trouble, but I found myself wondering again briefly. He spoke softly and I was reassured. "I'm knowing that none o' this was what ye asked fer lass. And I'm sorry for it." He shrugged. "Fer what it's worth. Though I might not be thinking much of the ways on Earth that raised ye, it's not your fault." Part of me was tempted to snap back that I hardly thought so either, but wisely I bit my tongue. He rose and poured me a glass of wine and handed it to me.

  "I'm thinking you might be liking a bath, Jen Marin." I sipped the wine, hardly knowing what to say—and then it hit me. He was trying to seduce me, sexually. He wanted me to have sex with him! I tried to be rational about it as he stood in front of me. Except for the fact that he was absolutely huge, he was a very good-looking man. I was well-read enough to know that without the compound pellets that were currently implanted under the skin of my hip, I might well feel some sexual desire for him. But compound protected me both from pregnancy and from the yoke of my own biology, and centuries earlier women had freed themselves for good from sexual desire. I was surprised he did not know that.

  Yet, I was not a virgin. During my teens, I had experimented with sex when my compound dose was a little lower—high enough to prevent pregnancy of course—but low enough so cute young men had still garnered some small interest. But once I went to the university I had chosen to have my dose upped to the maximum, and I had not thought about sex with anything other than passing disgust since

  This planet was blatantly sexual, though, and I knew without a doubt that young women on compound would be something that would be disproved of heartily. Should I tell him now? Try to explain? Somehow I knew that if I were honest with it now, I would be excused. But if I hid the fact that the pellets were in my body—and it was discovered later—I'd be in serious trouble.

  The moment of indecision passed, and I did not know what to do or say. He reached for my hand and led me through his chamber towards the large bathing chamber. I didn't want to be there with him, and I tried to remind myself that I hated him. Yet, his blue eyes were strangely gentle and I could not help but recall how he hand cradled me on his lap earlier that day—after he'd spanked me—as he had tried to explain what had happened to me and why.

  He sat on the edge of a bathing tub that was as large as any luxurious tub on Earth. He turned a knob and water rushed in with the force of a waterfall. It steamed in the cooler air of the room. Idly, he opened a vial and poured a stream of cloudy liquid under the flowing water. Immediately, a wonderful fragrance filled the room.

  I watched, mesmerized. I knew I had no desire for him, yet I found myself riveted by his sky-blue eyes. They were absolutely piercing in his tanned face. "Come now, lass." He pulled me between his long strong legs, and his hands were gentle on my arms. I went bonelessly. "Are ye shy with me then?"

  "No I just don't…"

  "You're open. They physician said it. Ye've been with a man." As he made the matter-of-fact statement, his large hands lifted my tunic over my head and before I knew it, I stood before him in only my split trousers. My legs were together, but I didn't dare look down. I knew my shaved public mound still would be visible through the opening. "You're a pretty lass, and I desire ye. There's naught to fear."

  I snorted softly. "Raisa…" I didn't know how to continue, in all honestly, didn't know why I had said it.

  He looked up, obviously startled I had even mentioned it, but then chuckled in return. "Raisa's too big for her britches and imagining things that are not to be." I blinked and was immediately curious about the statement. I had made the comment assuming that there was some sort of special arrangement or understanding between them and since Rohan was obviously not married, the reasonable guess was that they were to be wed at some point. But Rohan did not clarify at all, only continued, "And if the lass can't learn to mind her manners she'll be getting' more of what she got tonight, that's certain. Ye needn't pay her any mind. Like I said, if she devils ye, just tell Suze."

  His face showed boredom with the topic of Raisa. He seemed far more interested in… With one long brown finger, he reached forward and stroked a pink nipple that had hardened a little as it had become moist from the steam rising. I was shocked to feel myself shiver at his touch. I was supposed to feel nothing. He'd seen the reaction, though, and his mouth twitched. "Ye've pretty breasts, Jen." He touched the other tip, caught it between finger and thumb. "Very pretty."

  His hands shifted to my hips and he pulled down the loose trousers. I balked, but he ignored it, and before I knew it the fabric was puddled around my ankles. Casually, Rohan tested the temperature of the water and then with no warning, he simply lifted me into the tub. The loose trousers slipped off my feet as I went.

  I shuddered; the water did feel delicious. It was my second bath of the day, I realized, but so much had happened that the hot relaxation was more than welcome. The wine I had at dinner, combined with the sips I was still taking, had relaxed me more than I cared to admit. He did not let me sink down in the tub, though; he kept me standing before him and reached for a soft cloth. "Should I wash ye, lass?" I was hypnotized by his gaze; how did you answer a question like that? No one had ever done anything like this. I had never even imagined that anyone might.

  But he did not expect an answer and quickly he rubbed a soft soap onto the cloth. He turned me around firmly. "Let's see your bum, lass." I looked down over my shoulder as the warm water and the soapy cloth trailed over me. It would take many months to become accustomed to the fact that my skin was now permanently marked with a symbol I had chosen to represent Earth's Sun. "It was a fine choice, Jen," he remarked. "I know well enough what it is. I'm surprised, though, that ye'd wish to honor those that left ye here." As he spoke, he washed my bottom again and again with the cloth, hot water, smooth slippery soap, soothing fabric.

  I was facing away from him as he washed me, but my head was turned watching his hands, and now I lifted my face to his. "I didn't think of it like that," I responded quietly after a moment's thought. "It was just where I came from."

  "Oh, aye," he answered easily. "I didn't mean anything by it. It's a fine, bonny choice."

  Again without even asking me, he turned me to face him. The chamber seemed very warm, and although I was only in the hot water to mid-thigh, I was not cold at all. I closed my eyes. Was there something in the wine, I wondered briefly? I knew I had suddenly become more relaxed tha
n I had ever felt before. He re-soaped the cloth and then washed my breasts, over and over, then squeezed the cloth so water trickled in a stream against my puckered nipples. I felt a tight warmth beginning to grow in my belly. How could I be feeling this, I wondered frantically?

  Then, he pushed my thighs apart firmly. "And here, too. We must wash ye here too." He held my gaze with this just a second, and then we both looked down at my bare sex between the wet gleaming thighs. The cloth found me, stroked out, pulling the lips apart as it went between, tugging on my clitoris. I felt my tongue come out between my teeth; the fabric was a little rough, actually, and the soap stung me just a tiny bit. "So clean now. Isn't it much better?"

  Unwisely, I snapped, "Not really."

  His response was only a lifted eyebrow, a soft snort, and the quiet comment, "A spanking hurts worse on a wet bum, lass. Did ye know that?"

  Of course, I hadn't, so I just shook my head.

  "So I'm thinking ye don't want to find out?"

  I shook my head again.

  He stood, and stripped off his embroidered shirt. He grinned and looked down at the front of loose trousers. "Ye've quite an effect on me, lass." Unabashed, he slid the trousers down.

  I swallowed—painfully—over a thick lump in my throat as I saw what strained forth. His cock was enormous. My eyes must have gone wide, because he laughed.

  "Aye, lass, I'm a large man and ye're a tiny thing. But I'll be careful and go slow and ye'll get your pleasure from it, I promise." He stepped into the tub next to me. "Now you'll be washing me." He smiled as he handed me the cloth. I could not take my eyes off his huge erection, the tight sac that hung behind it, the whole massive… thing… between his thick thighs.

  True, I was no virgin but I could not imagine being entered by such a large pole of flesh. I'd never enjoyed the experience on Earth, the clumsy fumblings, the mess, and I although I had read in books about "climax," I had certainly never experienced it. In spite of the shiver of interest I'd had and the truly warm sensations I'd gotten when he had washed me so slowly and gently, I backed away. "I can't. I don't want to."

  His hand which held the cloth dropped back to his side. Confusion was apparent in every line of his body. I didn't need to see his face to sense it. "Come lass," he said softly. "I promise I'll be gentle with ye." He bent over and turned my face up to his, dropping his mouth to mine. His moustache brushed my lips.

  More frightened than ever, I turned, tried to back away in the tub, slipped on the smooth surface, and almost fell. He reached out and snagged me. I started to cry, sob harder than I had when he'd held me after my first spanking earlier in the day.

  He sighed, and even as my face was down, out of the corner of my eye, I could see his massive erection begin to diminish. He watched me for a long second, and my sobs did not lessen. "All right then, Jen" he said finally, and stepped out of the tub. He sounded resigned, frustrated, but not angry. Quickly he wrapped a drying cloth around his hips and fetched another for me. He lifted me out and bundled me into it.

  "I've never taken an unwilling woman and I never will. It's too much for you tonight, and I should have guessed that." Without saying another word, he dried me roughly and carried me to his bed. Like I was a child, he clothed me in a shirt which covered me—at best—to my lower belly, then he dumped me under the covers in the dark and moved away. I knew a flash of worry as I drifted off to sleep—realizing that if Rohan knew about the compound pellets buried under my skin, pellets that were ensuring I felt no sexual desire—his reaction may not have been quite so kind. But the day had been long for me, long, and painful and confusing and terrifying, and before I knew it I was asleep.

  Chapter 14

  I awoke late in the night, perhaps well towards dawn. The room was dark and absolutely quiet around me. Incredibly, Rohan was in the bed with me, his massive body warm and smooth; I'd never even stirred when he'd come in.

  I reached out and touched his shoulder, felt the muscles hard and corded even in sleep under my fingers. He felt the movement, and in response, shifted, grunted, and wrapped an arm around me, drawing me close. He mumbled something incoherent, though I thought I caught the word "lassie." Then, he rolled his body and I felt it against my still-sore bottom: his huge hard cock.

  I stiffened, wondering, my heart racing, what would happen next, a fear made more acute when I realized drowsily that below the short shirt, I was every bit as bare as he was. But I held my breath, and he did not come any more awake than that. Within a few more moments, the swelling against me subsided.

  When I was sure he was soundly asleep again, I eased myself out of his bed and walked to the balcony, into the cool night breeze. The shirt covered me only to the waist, and I thought briefly about trying to find some more clothing, but I gave up. My newly marked bottom was bare in back, my shaved sex in front, but who was there to see?

  Above me stars twinkled brilliantly; the atmosphere was drier than Earth's and there was no light pollution to block the view of the stars which glittered like hard diamonds. I knew this world had two moons, but tonight at least I could see neither.

  I wondered vaguely if Earth's sun—thirty-six light years away—could be seen from here. Would Christy know which star was Sol?

  I looked at the city stretched below me, away to the walls. Only a small light flickered here or there; a lantern moving along a street, a twinkle of lamp light in a window. I heard a faint shout, a snatch of song, and maybe the hard clang of horses' shod hooves against the cobbles, but it was too brief to be sure. Beyond the walls, the contrast was striking. Utter blackness.

  In the night sky, a brief glimmer of motion flickered. Could that be… the Drakkon? On the one hand, I didn't see how it could be, but then again, what was another possibility? The night sky on Earth was filled with air craft transports; here there was nothing like that. I had a completely irrational image of Primo Turner up there behind the light shield, gazing down at me on the balcony as I looked up at the ship. Completely crazy, but still it sent a shiver of fear down my spine.

  Behind me, I felt rather than heard a whisper of movement and before I could turn, Rohan stood next to me, naked and massive. "What is it, Jen?" he asked quietly.

  "Nothing."

  "If it be nothing, you'd not be out here worrying," he said flatly.

  Too tired, too sore, too frightened to argue, I agreed with him. "It's not nothing," I sighed. "I guess it's more, I don't even know who I am anymore. Who to trust. Why they did it. Why I'm here. What I'm going to do."

  "You're here, Jen, because there are many on Earth—still—who are…" he seemed to struggle for a word briefly, "evil. Must control everything. Who are they to say what we can have here?"

  "Fair enough," I argued, though my voice was low and respectful, "but Earth was dying. The colonies saved everyone." Even as I said it I knew I was spouting the official line, but I had no other arguments for him. "How long do people I never knew have to pay for things they did to people you never knew? Both worlds are good now, in their own way." I ignored what this planet did to girls and women because I didn't want to complicate the argument.

  He was quiet at the question. When he finally spoke, his voice was grave. "I had a brother. When I was six and he was nine, he got sick. The docs called it a blood cancer." Rohan sighed. "It took him two years to die. The docs told us that it was something that—on Earth—could have been cured already in the twentieth. Here, they understand it, but three hundred years and they still can't develop the cure." He paused. "Three hundred years ago, they dropped a thousand colonists here. No supplies, no tools beyond a few hand tools, no medicine, no shelter, no weapons. Two doctors. A few horses, a few cows, a couple of dogs. Do you know how many died in the first year? Four hundred."

  "I know." I had no argument for him, because this was the very ethical dilemma I had called into question at University, when I wrote the papers I now feared might have led to my being abandoned here.

  "Someday they'll pay. They'll pay for the f
our hundred that died the first year. They'll pay for my brother." He paused. "They'll pay for you and your wee friend." He reached out, his huge hand on my shoulder, drawing me into his body. "If you'll help me."

  I looked down again at the city stretched below, and tried to push the images that were haunting me out of my mind, images that were warring with each other: young women spanked until they howled; young women with heads exploding. At least here, on some level, sick and twisted though it was, they appeared to believe that what women were subjected to was for their benefit. It was an argument I was loathe to make with my own bottom still aching from the punishment, itching from the tattoo, and the exposed sex between my legs shaved bare, but it was still unavoidable, because no one could argue the other side: that abandoning, and then trying to murder, Christy and me were acts performed for our own good.

  He drew me closer. "Come to bed, Jen Marin," he whispered. "I'm cold, and tired, and sick to death of it all."

  I had nothing to say to that. With one final glance across the city, I followed him to the warm cocoon of his bed.

  The End

  Bethany Burke

  Publisher and CEO of Blushing Books

  Bethany has been writing professionally since the mid 1980s. In the early 1990s, bothered by the what she perceived as an increasing trend towards "politically correct romance," Bethany began self-publishing her spicy romances and sending her Xeroxed books out through snail mail. With the dawn of the Internet in the late '90s, Bethany was freed (at last!) from all those tiresome late night trips to the 24-hour Kinkos and from standing in line at the post office. She launched her first website on a September day in 1998, went out for dinner, and came home to find that sixteen people had bought one of her books. She never knew how they found her, but she's never looked back.