by Jaye Peaches
“Promise to keep me out of stasis and I’ll restore it. I’m a Class B mechanic. That’s why they recruited me to run solo trips to Kalamar. I can make my own repairs.” She stared into his opaque eyes, while behind her back she crossed her fingers.
“No stasis,” he repeated. “Lock you up for the duration of the trip? The cells are hardly comfortable. If you slept the whole way, you’d not know a thing.”
She gritted her teeth. “I just don’t like the idea of being frozen, okay?”
“Where I come from feeling cold is the norm,” he smirked slightly, then wiped away the expression when she frowned. “It’s quite painless and—”
Masking her irritation, she opted for courtesy. “Please, Marshal, I know how to fix this and I’d be grateful if you take my offer into consideration.”
He loosened his grip on her arms, but didn’t soften his expression. “If you make mischief for me, young lady, your ass will be punished. You’re already owed one spanking for tricking me back there.”
She glanced down at her naked body and grimaced. “Probably not the best plan of escape. I’d rather be dressed.”
Mason smiled, a strangely warming smile. “Let’s make sure you don’t change your mind again. You can fix the grav system, but, no clothes.”
“What!”
“Once you’ve repaired the system, you can dress. This way, I can make sure you’re not hiding anything from me.”
“What exactly would I hide from you?”
“Small tools in deep pockets. The kind that come in handy for escaping. Wouldn’t you find a decoder useful for decrypting the docking lock?” He tapped her nose, infuriating her, because he was right on all counts. She’d hoped to sneak off with something she might use later. “Since I’ve searched you once, it would save you the embarrassment of stripping again for another one. Let’s go, shall we?”
“And afterwards, you’ll let me stay in a cell?”
He pursed his lips. “Okay. It’s against protocols, but, I’m thinking you’re the kind of girl who always goes against protocols.”
She smiled, proud of her reputation. “Damn right,” she muttered.
Once in the engineering hub, she wedged herself beneath a console and removed a panel. Throughout her inspection, she muttered to herself, grizzling at her situation, especially the ongoing nudity clause he’d enacted. Mason, who hadn’t given her any privacy, watched from the other side of the room, his leg hooked around a stool. Like on all spaceships, furniture was bolted to the floor.
The lack of gravity hampered her efforts. Tools kept floating away and she felt uncoordinated. Finally, she removed the damaged circuit. It would have to be replaced, and fortunately there was a spare one. She slotted the new one in, and instantly she felt the tickle of static creep down her spine. Then she dropped to the floor like a stone.
“Ow!”
Mason dashed across the room. “Are you okay?” he asked, kneeling next to her.
His concern came out of nowhere, or had it? Apart from the spanking, he hadn’t done anything to harm her and he had taken special care not to hurt her during the strip search. A rise of hot blood flushed her cheeks. Thinking about the exam wasn’t a good idea. It led her into a network of confused emotions.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, a little too rudely. She swallowed. “I meant to say…” It was too late. She’d offended him again with her curtness.
Mason’s eyebrows furrowed in an obvious display of displeasure and he rose. “Good. Let’s get this over with then.”
Jade stood. “What?”
“The rest of your punishment.”
“But… but, I fixed the problem,” she said, astounded.
He took her hand, enveloping her slender digits in his, and led her toward the same stool he’d used to anchor his leg. She could try to pull away, claw at his arm and hit him, punch him, but she didn’t. A peculiar sensation of meekness followed in his footsteps. He led, she followed. It was crazy, feeling like this for no obvious reason.
“And I’m very pleased you did. However, the other problems, the escape attempt and your rudeness haven’t been fixed.” He sat, his lap wide and supportive, and tugged on her arm.
Her lower lip trembled with indignation. “You’re going to put me in stasis, aren’t you?”
Directing her head first over his lap with an uncompromising firmness, he answered. “No. You’re going to a cell. I don’t go back on my word about anything, including this spanking.”
She practically slumped over his knees, resigned to his demand. Given the choice between being frozen or spanked, the latter was preferable.
The first smack reverberated around the room, aided by the metallic walls. Immediately it stung, leaving a hot imprint of his palm spread across the span of her buttock. She wriggled, unable to hold still as he proceeded to rattle off a number of slaps, alternating between her cheeks.
“I’m sure you appreciate that escaping is an offense,” he said without pausing between ricocheting spanks. “One I should report and add to your charge sheet.”
“Oh, please don’t,” she wailed, fighting back the tears. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I have to try.”
He maintained the momentum, focusing on the same two spots on each buttock, cascading swats one after the other, using his other arm to hug her to his waist, preventing her from slipping off his lap.
“And if you do, the next time I’ll more than spank you,” he warned.
What did he mean by that? She’d rather not find out, but at the same time, she was determined to remain loyal to her cause, keep up her end of the bargain. Escaping was a necessity if she was to prove to her friends that she’d made the right decision in going solo.
He clutched an ass cheek and squeezed. She winced; the heat had risen to the surface and inflamed what felt like the entire surface of her bottom. She refused to weep out loud, instead, she wept quietly. The predicament was humiliating. Mason wasn’t a bounty hunter, he was worse—a dedicated follower of procedures, who was unlikely to give up and find another quarry, unlike a mercenary who was motivated by money rather than a civic sense of duty. Until he captured the rest of his fugitives and delivered them, and her, to the authorities, she was stuck on the ship.
She sniveled and crushed her legs together, trying to ignore the unwanted sensation. As he admonished her in his unwavering and direct manner, she fought with the realization he’d awakened something inside her that she’d kept buried—an attraction to dominant men. She cringed, wishing he’d behaved meanly or obnoxiously, so she could justify hating him. However, there was little point in hoping for a more meaningful relationship with the marshal, especially since she was going to be locked in a tedious cell while he roamed the ship.
The smacks had slowed, lessened in intensity, but given how sore her ass was, the easing off made little difference to the smarting. Jade couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt that kind of scorching pain anywhere in her body. Mason rested his hand and soothed her with sweeping strokes that circled her buttocks. Helping her up, he perched her on his lap. She blubbered like a child, her snotty nose irritating her because she wanted to wipe it and it shamed her to think she might look pathetic. Blinking, a splash of wetness hit her cheeks. Too late. She was fighting a losing battle—she had not a jot of grace left, none at all.
Mason sighed when he spied her tears on her cheekbones and wiped them away with his thumbs. “You’re not that old, are you? I guess you passed into womanhood recently?”
She nodded, hating her appearance—she wasn’t that young, she’d been a student for several years, but somehow, she’d held onto that girlish look, never quite grasping the maturity of a woman. It was misleading, because in her heart, and when she compared herself to her friends, she was years ahead of them in confidence and independence. Or so she thought, because Mason possessed a much greater authority on the subject of independence than her and he swiftly reminded her of that as he spoke.
“And here you are
, on your own, navigating the wildest part of our galaxy. Speaking as someone older than you, I don’t think it’s wise, do you, being on your own and so inexperienced?”
She answered with a shake of her head. Wisdom came with age—she agreed with him on that point, but she really didn’t want his observation to be true.
“I’m going to take you to your ship.”
She lifted her head, her eyes widening with disbelief—he’d changed his mind!
“To collect your personal belongings for your stay in the cell,” he continued. “First, let’s get you dressed. We can pick up your clothes on the way.”
She slouched her shoulders, disappointed that she’d failed to dent his armor. He wasn’t going to let her go that easily. Jade said nothing and her muteness was an unfamiliar response. She’d temporarily lost the ability to answer him back. It seemed spanking her had had an impact on her demeanor. The realization somewhat surprised her. What else was Mason capable of doing to her?
* * *
Having collected her clothes from the medical bay, Mason escorted Jade to her docked ship and supervised her as she retrieved more clothing and a few personal effects, including a cube that projected images onto a wall for viewing. If it kept her occupied, he didn’t mind.
The cell had originally belonged to a junior officer. The ex-troop ship had a handful of private quarters for the officers, whereas the soldiers had bunked in a compact dormitory that now formed the stasis chamber.
Jade trudged through the door and stared in bewilderment at the cot and tiny adjoining bathroom. Mason made no apology for the lack of space and the uninspiring plain furniture. However, there was a small window and it afforded Jade a view of the distant planet of Kalamar, her original destination.
“I’ll bring you food and once a day you can take a run around the cargo bay. It’s largely empty since I don’t need much in the way of supplies. Just me and my frozen fugitives.” He grinned, but lightening the tone of the conversation had no impact on Jade’s situation. Frozen or not, she was about to be locked in a cell.
She dropped down onto the cot with a forlorn expression, then jumped back up when the hard surface made contact with her bottom. She winced and rubbed her behind.
Such a great pity she’d chosen to take advantage of the gravity failure to escape and ruin the trust he thought they’d brokered. However, he’d forgiven her the inconvenience of the futile escapade, because once she’d gotten into the job of fixing the problem, she’d forgotten her nudity and seemed to enjoy the task, humming to herself as she worked. He doubted she’d admit to the observation. As for Mason, he’d not taken his eyes off her shapely legs and flowing hair.
His erection was something he’d swiftly had to dampen down when he’d tossed her over his lap to complete her punishment.
It had given him no pleasure to punish her with another spanking, which followed swiftly on from the first one. Her tanned ass would take a while to cool down. What he had taken delight in seeing was her neat form laid out across his lap. She possessed the attributes of a dancer or athlete with lithe muscles, tight waistline, and curvaceous hips. He’d gritted his teeth in a determined manner—he’d let his professionalism slip during the cavity search. It wouldn’t happen again.
Having deposited her in the cell, and with nothing else to say other than to remind her that the intercom would call him to the cell if she needed anything of importance, he locked the door with his thumbprint.
Mason lay on his bed and imagined Jade wasn’t his prisoner. It wasn’t helpful. Back on his icy planet, if he hadn’t joined up and become a marshal, he would have followed the practices of his Stratum and be married by now. His slave-wife would have been chosen from his Stratum, whose women were meek and tirelessly obedient and complemented his own innate dominance.
This very Stratum system was what the Novador Federation wanted to impose across its domain in the hope of bringing order and a steady stream of new recruits to its armies. Kalamar, the first planet chosen, had refused to indoctrinate its people into the system and the result had been trade embargoes that had cut the planet off from the rest of the Federation, forcing it into a state of emergency.
Jade believed she was helping the stricken planet, whereas Mason knew her actions only prolonged their inevitable defeat. The Stratum system for all its faults was the best solution to the deterioration of law and order. His Stratum, whose males were all high-functioning alphas, had filled many leadership roles in the Federation. It was his choice to enroll as a space marshal and be part of a team who’d spread themselves across the Federation, bringing dangerous criminals to the justice courts. Jade’s comment about bounty hunters especially riled him. Only the best alphas made it into the ranks of marshals. Bounty hunters were usually disgraced enforcers or mercenaries.
Sleep escaped him. He sat at his desk and monitored the communication traffic coming in from his informants and fellow marshals. A brief message caught his eye and he read it through twice.
Callo sighted leaving Kalamar. Traveling alone. Expected to arrive at SP Gamma in two days.
Mason rubbed his hands together. Callo was one of his top three fugitives. Rumor had it that he planned to visit the spaceport to see his lover and therefore traveled alone to lessen his chances of being caught. However, Mason’s informant knew the ruse and Callo had been recognized leaving Kalamar in a stolen shuttlecraft.
Without knowledge of the precise route, Mason would have to weave back and forth between the planet and the spaceport until he intercepted the fugitive. With luck, in a couple of days, the scumbag would be frozen in stasis.
The screen flickered, the lights dimming a fraction. Another key system was on the verge of failing. Mason cursed and thumped the console. It was the last thing he needed.
Chapter Four
After one day in the cell, she almost wished he’d frozen her. The tedium was appalling even with the image cube that showed pictures of her family, friends, and home planet. The projections covered the wall and she lay on the narrow cot wishing she had listened more to her family and less to her friends.
Life had a purpose when she left Malimor to join the Relief Corps. A few of her friends had gone with her. They’d all heard the terrible stories coming out of other worlds and wanted to help. Locating the covert aid group had been a challenge and she’d gone through various vetting procedures before they trusted her. Then, when a number of her team had been arrested, she’d volunteered to run a solo mission. She had the knowhow to operate a craft on her own, she’d argued, and her lack of experience was not a problem—she’d be quick, in and out, depositing her cargo at the coordinates in one rotation of the planet.
It hadn’t gone quite to plan.
She watched the stars from the port window. The constellations changed patterns and she started to recognize a few of them. Mason appeared to be zigzagging his way to some unknown destination. As the sparkling stars passed before the window, she noted the angles and worked out they were leaving Kalamar behind. A shame; she’d really wanted to complete her mission.
Mason wasn’t anything like what she expected of law enforcers, although her experience of them was somewhat limited to the local force back at home and their rather relaxed attitude to the regulations. They’d let her bribe her way off the planet without the necessary forms. Marshal Mason Hadley didn’t budge as easily.
She tucked her hands behind her head and stretched out on the bed. Quite why she found Mason alluring was annoying her. A man telling her what to do wasn’t an issue. She’d nothing against authority figures. However, reinforcing it with his palm was an unexpected novelty. She should hate him for spanking her and the way he examined her, forcing her to orgasm… he had, hadn’t he? But, bizarrely, she didn’t hate him, or couldn’t, she wasn’t sure which, and it was causing her no end of confusion trying to unravel her mixed-up emotions.
Groaning in frustration, she rotated onto her belly and bundled her hands underneath her, trapping them, preventin
g them from wandering between her legs. If she had an occupation, something to take her mind off Mason, she might not have the yearning to know him better. He had the advantage over her from the outset—he’d seen her naked. She wouldn’t mind if he returned the favor and uncovered himself. She reckoned there was a fine man lurking beneath his jacket and pants. She closed her eyes and squeezed the lids shut hard, as if she could erase the image from her mind. Damn it, it wasn’t working! She had particular feelings, familiar flutters in her stomach and a wetness that shouldn’t be where it was.
Eventually, sleep came, gifted to her by exhaustion and nothing else.
When she woke, there was food next to the cot. Dried stuff, the kind soldiers lived on when they had nothing else. Tasteless rubbish. She nibbled on it, dredging up an appetite from somewhere. Another day had passed, she guessed. He’d promised her some exercise.
The lights flickered, just as they had done several times since she’d been locked up in the cell. This time it was accompanied by a clunk. Next to the door was the access panel. It should be red, indicating it was locked, and now it had turned green. The lock had been released. She waited for Mason to walk in, but the door remained shut.
Tiptoeing toward it, she placed her hand on the door release and it moved, sliding open. Mason wasn’t there. Nobody was there to greet her.
She stuck her head around the corner and glanced up and down the corridor, listening. Nothing. Not a sound except the usual vibrating whirr of a distant engine. The ship was moving. Where was Mason?
Then she noticed the panels opposite were flashing. Dashing over, she touched the screen and quickly determined the security system had failed. It wasn’t just her cell door; all the doors had sprung open including the docking locks. Her little ship was accessible and she would be able to speed away. Maybe Mason was asleep or otherwise occupied and unaware of the breakdown. The only problem would be the tractor beam—would it be functioning? She had to chance it.
