by Loki Renard
His hand slides from my throat and cups my breast. A trickle of wetness slips between my inner lips. I am spread for him and his presence alone is enough to make my body respond. His desire is a physical force I can feel. It infects me, takes me. It makes me his. I cannot resist him, even if I wanted to.
As his hands roam my bound body, he makes soft reverent sounds, caressing me all over. This is not the most tender of places. It is a prison, and I am trussed and bound and swinging from the ceiling. I am his prisoner but this might be the most gentle he has ever been for me. My pussy clenches as his fingers run lightly over my skin, his mouth finding mine as he kisses me. I taste him again as if for the first time. He is unique in all the universe, his tongue slipping against mine, conquering me with a gentle insistence that triggers me to respond.
I love him.
I don’t want to. I’ve never wanted to, but I do.
There’s the sound of fabric shifting and then I feel him pressed against me. That impossibly long rod is gliding over my slit, using my juices to torment me. Karlo has always known how to use my body against me, how to make my desire his plaything. He has lost none of that talent.
* * *
I have her. She’s mine. I have dreamed of this for so long. I am on the precipice of joining with her again and I will savor this moment, even as she twists in my ropes. I love having her bound. Her sex is wet and flowering, I can see it contracting, willing me inside. The lines between captive and captor are becoming blurred now. I have been hunting her, but she was waiting for me, and now I see the desire in her eyes and smell it between her thighs and I do not know which of us is in control. All I know is that I must have her, must be inside her.
I grab the ropes and pull her onto my cock in one hard thrust, her hot, soft flesh enveloping mine. Her scream of ecstasy is music to my ears as I start to fuck her hard, pulling her on and off my rod, swinging her sweet female form from the ceiling. She has always had difficulty accommodating my girth but as she writhes in her bonds she takes every inch of it, her lower lips gripping me eagerly every time I pull out.
Reunited in flesh, we become one, her sex wrapped around mine perfectly. She was made for me, this woman from another star. She is mine and I will never let her go. My orgasm rushes quickly forward, my body equally eager to reestablish dominion. She must be filled with my cum. She must be made mine again.
Her head falls back and she shrieks as I hold her hips and come inside her, filling that hot little hole. I feel her pussy clenching around me, I can see the spasms of her bound muscles as they strain against the ropes. She comes loud and hard, her tight pussy draining every drop of my cum inside her.
“Mine,” I growl, holding her close, grabbing her by the hair and kissing her deeply. I want to stay inside her forever, to feel her wrapped around me, to know precisely where she is. “All fucking mine.”
She moans softly into my mouth as I stand and hold her just like that, my beautiful bound human, the only one my heart has beat for all these years. If I were to die at this precise moment, I would be happy. There is nothing I want, nothing I need. I have her. I have everything.
Finally my cock softens and slips from her, leaving a trail of my seed sliding down her slit. I go to my knees before her and press my mouth to her lips, cleaning her with gentle sweeps of my tongue. I taste myself and her, joined as we should be as she lets out soft cries of pleasure. I pay special attention to the jewel of her clit, lapping around the little bud as I hold her in place, her bound legs spreading wide as she starts to spiral into a new orgasm. I see it all, her sweet sex trembling, the movements of her inner muscles making her outer lips quake. She comes again writhing on my mouth, sharing her juices and my seed as they flood from her sex into my mouth. I lap all over until I am satisfied that I am leaving her pussy gleaming and clean.
“That’s new,” she says shakily as I loosen the knots and bring her down into my arms.
“Everything is going to be different, Era,” I promise.
“Everything is different,” she agrees. I see something like a flash of regret in her eyes and draw her close again, holding her so tight she squeaks and taps me to get me to loosen my grasp.
“Are you going to let me go, Karlo?”
“Not ever. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” I wrap the rope around her neck, using a knot that will not allow it to slip too tight, but will keep her on a leash of rope. For all the technology we have, a simple rope is by far the most effective with a disobedient little human like her, and having her at the end of it brings me more than pleasure, it brings a deep contentment. This is how she should be. This is where she should be.
I lead her naked through the ship, toward the bridge. I have learned my lesson where she is concerned, I must never let her more than a few feet from me, and clothing, well, I will not see her clothed for quite some time. I want to drink her delicious body in whenever I desire.
“I’m not wearing anything…”
“I know.”
She blushes and looks toward the floor, but does not argue as I lead her onto the bridge. She is my prisoner. Mine. I will keep her as I please. The others look away quickly as she enters, knowing better than to ogle my mate. I feel a rush of pride as the energy in the room shifts. Her beauty is powerful, and it is mine, harnessed.
“Karlo?” Her voice is soft, hesitant. I turn toward her and cock my head.
“You should,” she says, twisting her fingers nervously. “I mean, you should get rid of me now. There’s stuff… there’s something…”
Rathkari war ship, return my child.
A woman’s voice blares over the open audio channel. Apparently the operator didn’t close it. Her strident tones startle everyone on the bridge.
“Who is that?”
Open a video link and find out, Seale Karlo.
Whoever it is, she knows my name. The operator looks at me for his orders. I nod. May as well see who this is. A second later, our unexpected interloper makes an appearance.
The image is of a large Drixi woman. She is mature; the olive tone of her skin demonstrates that. Drixi change color over the course of their lives, beginning a pale puce and slowly becoming more green with time. She has large dark eyes, no nose, as is typical of the Drixi, and a broad smile that broadcasts her glee.
“Hello, General Karlo. My name is Duchess Marchone.”
Airs and graces from another planet and another time do not make her any more noble. I recognize the double diamond insignia she has branded above her cleavage. She is a rebel. Only the most die-hard of them mark themselves in such a way. So there is another rebel ship out here. Very well. I do not understand why this woman has revealed herself. It is a significant error on her part. My appetite for conquest is never sated. She will make as good a trophy before the Rathkari council as any other rebel.
“The crew of the ship we took are being sent to a prison colony. You are welcome to join them if you are unable to outrun us.”
She smiles.
“I see why she likes you.”
A chill runs down my spine. I do not know why, but every sense I have is suddenly acutely aware of danger. This is a Rathkari war ship, one of the safest places to be in the entire universe. Our engines are capable of running down practically any other craft, our shields can guard against radiation from a neutron star, we have a crew of hundreds of highly trained soldiers. And yet, suddenly, I am uneasy. Something is not right here. Where is this woman broadcasting from, and why can’t we see her?
“It’s called phase shifting,” she says, reading my confusion perfectly. “Your Rathkari sensors can’t quite pick it up as yet. You should work on that. It can lead to some nasty surprises. Have a look.”
“Sir! Fuck!” My scanner tech exclaims. He points at his screen, which displays a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of surrounding space. It was empty moments ago, but now all around us, silver stars begin blinking into existence, except they’re not stars. They’re rebel cruisers. Hundreds of th
em, all with their weapons powered.
“Oh. Fuck.”
Someone on the bridge utters an obscure Earth curse as it sinks in. We have been outmaneuvered and outplayed. We are surrounded by an entire fleet of rebel vessels. We lost this battle the moment we drifted into this bit of space hours ago, we just didn’t know it. I am filled with rage, some level of natural fear—and no small amount of admiration. These rebels constructed a perfect trap and I walked right into it.
“High command will send vessels for us,” I say as the Drixi woman sneers at me triumphantly. “You may have us at a disadvantage now, but soon enough you will be the one at a disadvantage of numbers.”
“Oh, I am sure they will,” she says, her smile broadening. “That’s the best part, General Karlo. You will be right here, and they won’t see you. I think we’ll stay, just so you can watch your last hope of rescue drift by.”
“I still have Era,” I remind her. “And your crew.”
“Touch a hair on any of their heads and I will obliterate you.” She speaks with a chilling smile. “Now be a good boy, General, and lower your shield. We will send shuttles to board your vessel momentarily.”
I consider my options. I could try to blast through the rebel wall, but odds are the ship will be crippled in the attempt and by the time the unscathed rebel ships catch us, they’ll be looking to avenge their dead comrades. That wouldn’t bode well for me, or the crew.
There’s nothing to do. I realize in that moment that I have been played quite expertly, and not just by this Marchone character—but by the woman I love.
* * *
He turns toward me and I see the betrayal in his eyes. It hits me like a boot to the gut, but I try to stay strong. It has been a long time since I owed allegiance to him. I had no choice but to do this.
“I told you this wasn’t your territory anymore, Karlo.”
He drops the rope that leads to the collar about my neck. That simple action says more than a thousand shouted words ever could.
He’s angry. Seething. He doesn’t like to lose and he just lost. Badly. I used to dream of this moment. I used to fantasize about what it would be like to be the one in control, to have all the power over him. I should feel a welling of triumph, especially after what he just did to me, but instead I feel a rush of guilt. I’ve betrayed him. The man I love. I had to do it, and soon he’ll understand, but right now… right now his anger excites me a little more than it should.
Marchone and our rebel crew soon board the ship. She makes her way to the bridge, where two of our staunchest warriors take Karlo into custody. I expect a battle, but there isn’t one. He seems oddly detached from the proceedings. Maybe he’s unconcerned. Maybe I’ve fucking destroyed him by betraying him. There’s a part of me silently screaming for him to attack the men holding him. He could do it. He’s stronger than them. But he doesn’t. He lets them take him by the arms. Stands there like a mannequin.
“Good girl,” Marchone purrs, running her fingernails down the back of my neck.
Karlo stiffens at the gesture. He does not like to see her touch me.
“Take him away,” she says. “Put him in a cell.”
He lets them take him. I keep expecting him to explode with all the power and venom I know is at his disposal, but he walks between the warriors as if he has been a prisoner all his life. The entire moment is unspeakably anticlimactic and deeply depressing. I knew this was going to happen, but I don’t feel good about it. I should be celebrating turning the tables on the man who made me his captive, but instead I just feel sick.
“Let me take that off you,” Marchone says, her fingers reaching for the rope about my neck.
I keep a tight smile plastered on as she pulls away the last connection I have to him. She can’t know what I’m feeling. It would mean death for us both, and worse.
Chapter Fourteen
I have never been prisoner in the cells of my own ship before. They are not comfortable. My men are similarly imprisoned, apart from the ones necessary to run certain functions of the ship. They are obeying my order to cooperate reluctantly. I’ve taken them all into a trap, and I do not want to see any of them die. I’ll do what I have to in order to survive, and so will they.
The Drixi woman stalks toward me. There is danger in her eyes as she approaches the bars and stares in at me.
“So,” she says. “You are Seale Karlo. You are the one who hurt my little bird.”
I say nothing. What is there to say. My silence appears to irritate her.
“You say nothing to defend yourself?”
“I don’t need to defend myself,” I say calmly. “This is not your business.”
“It is certainly my business,” Marchone insists, her voice tipping into an acidic tone. “She never recovered from you, you know. And the moment you had her in your power, you took her again, ravaged her. You are an animal, Karlo, and I will treat you as one. You will be a beast of burden for me. I will enjoy using you like the depraved creature you are.”
She’s angry. Interesting. This seems to be a personal mission for her. She has clearly become very attached to my Era. I can’t blame her for that. Era is lovely, though I am not buying that Marchone wants to protect her. If that were the case, she would not have hung her out as bait.
“She cried for weeks,” the Drixi woman says. “And every tear she shed made me declare vengeance on you.”
“Why?”
“Why?” She lets out a shocked laugh. “Do you not understand empathy at all? You Rathkari men are monsters. You will suffer, Seale Karlo.”
If she wants me to worry, she’s going to have to do a lot more than stand outside the cell and make threats at me, but we both know she will not step inside. She will use others, exact her revenge by proxy.
“It will be slow.”
* * *
Hiding around the corner, I hear the exchange between Marchone and Karlo. He barely says a word to her, but his responses anger her deeply. I can hear the tremor of rage in her voice. I want to warn him not to test her. Marchone is capable of cruelty beyond cruelty. She takes pleasure in hurting her captives.
He does not respond to her threats and in the end she stalks away. I know what happens next. I’ve seen it before and it has sickened me every time. She’s gone to get the psychopaths who torture for her pleasure. It’s whispered in our ship that the only way she can climax is if she sees blood.
The second she leaves, I scurry around the corner to his cell. He is standing there, arms folded over his chest an unimpressed expression on his handsome features. How is it possible for him to remain commanding and dominating even as a prisoner?
I smirk through the bars at him. “Not so much fun now, is it, Karlo?”
“Not for either of us,” he says, his golden eyes on me. “I’m no good to you in here, and you’re nothing but a puppet out there.”
“You’ve never been any good to me anywhere.”
He shrugs. “So this is how it ends? You watch me die?”
He seems detached from the idea, like it doesn’t bother him at all. The Rathkari are known for their bravery, and Karlo is a prime example of it. I don’t think he will give Marchone what she wants. He will not beg, he will not cry, he will likely not scream in pain, and that will only drive her to ever greater acts of cruelty.
I can’t watch what she has in store for him. I just can’t.
* * *
I would not blame Era if she had come to gloat over my capture, but that doesn’t seem to be her plan. It is impossible to tell what her agenda is now. Three years is a long time, and evidently she has ingratiated herself into the highest levels of the rebellion. This has obviously been a well laid out plan designed to catch quite a trophy—no Rathkari war general has ever been taken by the rebellion. I am sure they will find a range of fascinating pains and humiliations for me.
“You have to get out of here,” she says, fiddling with the lock. “They’re going to kill you. Marchone is vicious…”
&
nbsp; “You care?”
“I care, Karlo,” she curses. “Of course I fucking care. I didn’t have a choice.”
“You had a choice,” I growl. “You had a choice not to run from me. You had a choice not to betray me. You had a thousand choices.”
“I didn’t,” she snarls back at me. “And you don’t understand, so just shut up.”
I do not care for her snapping at me, but this is hardly the time for a correction. She has the keys to my cage, and she is about to let me go. Her hands are shaking with adrenaline, and every second she fumbles feels like a year. I fall silent, giving her room to work and soon she swings the door open. I am free.
I take her by the collar and march her down to the next cell. The rebels have not posted guards down here, they are too busy looting the weapons and supplies above. Era makes squeaks of complaint as I have her free each and every one of my men, but she does as she is told. This little traitor who I love… I do not know what I am going to do with her, but I know what has to be done in this moment.
I keep hold of her as I address my men in soft tones. We are still outgunned and outmanned, but now we have the element of surprise on our side. We will not be trying to take back this ship. This ship is forfeit. What we will be doing is disabling its navigation, and taking the escape vessels, fleeing into space in a hundred different directions, calling for the fleet.
Having given my orders for evacuation, I take Era with me as we move through the ship. The rebels made an excellent plan of capture, but they have failed on the follow through. If I were to take a Rathkari ship, every floor would be overrun, but Marchone’s crew want first pickings of the loot, so they are sparse, and nowhere near our emergency shuttles.
