by Lee Savino
“Please don’t,” I beg, now with a much more proper tone than I’d used before. Large fingers caress my bottom, soothing the sore spots, but also readying me for the punishment to come.
“This is mine to do with as I please,” he reminds me, sounding way too satisfied with himself. The possessiveness in his voice triggers something inside of me, even though intellectually I know he’d be this way about any woman presented to him. This has nothing to do with me, so I can’t let myself react too much to it. “Mine to punish, mine to reward. And I must set an example for my men.”
I shouldn’t have pushed him in front of the others. Stupid, Dawn. That was just common sense. Although I hadn’t meant to exactly… or had I? Had some part of my brain wanted to see what he would do? How he would react? Had I been trying to find the line?
If I had been, I definitely found it. He’s the head honcho, he has to be in control of his Tribute in front of the others. Maybe I can talk back a little bit when it’s just the two of us, but not when there’s an audience.
His palm cracks down once on both cheeks, quick as a whip, reigniting the burn from my previous spanking. I cry out, my legs automatically kicking. The way I’m propped over his leg, my entire backside is on display except for the narrow strip covered by the belt… something he could rescind at any moment. If any warrior on the deck looks closely they’ll be able to see everything.
Including how excited this spanking makes me.
Smack!
Smack!
Smack!
I hold still, internally praying that the spanking is already over, as Gavrill cups my right buttcheek, molding it to his palm before smacking it. He repeats the motion with my left, his movements slow and methodical. Thoughtful. As if he’s realizing something. I feel the training belt recede, uncovering me completely and I moan.
He plumps one cheek and I suck in a breath. I’m practically dripping on the floor. He’s got to notice—it’s only a matter of time.
His fingers stray lower and my lower half twitches.
“You’re still enjoying this.” He sounds a little surprised.
“No!” I crane my neck. He’s examining the sticky wetness on his fingers, a satisfied little smile on his face. His armor shimmers—changing colors?
“Commander,” one of the warriors pipes up.
“A moment,” Gavrill growls, and jerks my shimmery robes over my bare skin, covering me up against prying eyes. The training belt slides over my ass and pussy again, cool against the heat of my bottom. Oh, so now he’s concerned about privacy?
He swings me upright, propping me between his knees facing him. I can barely meet his eyes. His suit shifts to a more neutral grey, but there are small flashes of gold that nearly match his skin. I know from my training that the gold is arousal.
“We will continue this later.” He strokes my hip and I shiver, trying not to imagine all the punishments he might think up in the meantime. “You will take your place as my Tribute and keep quiet.”
I bite my lip and nod. He makes a chiding noise and I add quickly, “Yes, Master.”
I’m in a good position to learn about the ship up here on the bridge, so if I can just keep my mouth shut then maybe I can take the first steps in escaping from here eventually.
Nodding in satisfaction, Gavrill shifts me off of his lap. This time I obediently kneel on the large cushion—which is surprisingly comfortable. By the time I’ve lowered myself down, I realize he must have told the truth about my knee, because it didn’t even twinge when I put my weight on it.
As Gavrill conducts his business, I review my circumstances. I’m the captive of a large, dominant alien, but he’s only going to spank me if I’ve been bad and otherwise I think he’ll treat me pretty well even if he thinks of me as a pet. Things could definitely be worse right? Studying the other warriors out of the corner of my eye, I’m not sure I’d be better off with one of them. Certainly not with the big one at the station to the right of Gavrill’s chair. When he’s not addressing the Commander, he’s scowling at me. I recognize him from the presentation ceremony. He was standing behind Gavrill along with another, older Tsenturion.
“Bodgan,” Gavrill says, and the glowering warrior snaps his attention from me to the Commander. “You found sign of the Vgothas?”
“Yes, sir. Along the edge of the Boral Nebulae. Likely they are trying to use its energy as camouflage for their ships. It is effective, the trail is very hard to follow, and it looks as though it’s leading towards Outer Rim space where they are sure to have allies. We will likely not have an opportunity to engage them from such a position of power again.” Bogdan lowers his gaze to me again. If looks could kill... I duck my head and scoot closer to Gavrill’s chair, using the commander’s thickly muscled leg to block some of his warrior’s malice. Gavrill reaches down and strokes my hair absently. I should be pissed at him petting me like a cat, but I feel safe and protected instead.
“There will be plenty of opportunities to engage the enemy, especially if we bait them.”
Bogdan's suit abruptly lightens to a cloudy silver.
“Send coordinates to Arkdhem. Tell him to send out the scouts. They should cloak their ships and cruise along the meteor belt. They’re authorized to use fire power to clear a path.”
“The Vgothas will sense the weapons emissions.”
“Yes,” Gavrill says, sounding suddenly fierce. I almost lift my eyes up to look at him, feeling just the tiniest bit afraid at this other side to him. “Then we will engage them.”
“You propose we use subterfuge?” I can’t tell if Bogdan is happy or disgusted.
“The enemy is stealthy. They will not expect it of us.” Gavrill settles back in his seat with a satisfied grimness that makes me glad his attention is on the Vgothas and not me. “Then we will destroy them.”
Gavrill
My Tribute’s eyes are downcast when we enter my chambers. She’s been quiet since her little outburst on the bridge. While I appreciated her silence there, I find I am growing more uncomfortable with it. She was certainly not quiet when she woke up, so why is she now silent?
I stride to the edge of our resting place, snap my fingers and point to a spot in front of me.
With a wary gaze, she approaches and stands before me, eyeing me warily. She’s intelligent enough to be nervous, and yet she still obeys.
“Good girl,” I murmur. Her lips press together, and I can tell she’s aggravated by the praise for some reason, but I enjoy it almost as much as her reluctant obedience. I like her strong spirit, as long as she obeys. For her, my will is law. Always. Still, disobedience will give me reason to punish her, which I also enjoy thoroughly. I do not wish for it to occur again in front of my men though.
When I’d had her over my lap I’d nearly forgotten they were all there, gazing upon her… coveting her. Feeling their eyes on us was why I’d cut her punishment short. She is my Tribute, I don’t have to share any part of her, not even the sight of her, if I don’t wish it.
Her very presence has also been a distraction from matters which need my attention. It was easier when she was on the cushion and I hadn’t actually had my hands on her.
“You disobeyed me on the bridge, my Tribute. But I am fair. I will give you a chance to explain before finishing your punishment.”
Her shoulders lift and fall, slumping a little. She looks like she is trying to appear meek, but she looks more sulky than anything else.
“Speak,” I order, goading her. "You are a sentient being. You have language. Use it.”
Her mouth knots into a defiant pout. Red stains her cheeks. She might not know her hands have curled into fists, but I notice it—along with her heightened body temperature. Sensations seep into me, conducted from her Trainer to my suit. She’s angry… and aroused.
“With all due respect,” she says, straightening up and daring to look me directly in the eye. I shouldn’t like it, but I do. “You don’t treat me like one.”
“What?” My s
uit flashes with surprise.
“A sentient being. You don’t treat me like one. You treat me like a pet.” She indicates her necklet and lead. “A collar? A leash? I’m not your fucking dog.”
“What is a dog?” I ask, frowning at the unfamiliar word as I attempt to approximate her pronunciation. ‘Pet’ I understand, we had those on Tsentur, but ‘dog’ does not translate.
“It’s… it’s a pet.” She stammers out the words, caught off-guard. “An animal. A smart one which can be trained but is not equal to a human.”
Just as she is not equal to me, but I choose not to point that out. It would be rude and possibly even cruel to highlight the superiority of Tsenturions to humans.
Still, I shrug. I am the master, she is the Tribute. Of course, I treat her differently than I would one of my men. Tsenturion brides were often courted in a similar manner until they are mastered, after which they were allowed more liberties… but she is not a bride.
“You are my Tribute. You belong to me. If I choose to declare my ownership to my men by marking every inch of your skin, it is my right.”
Her chest flushes pink and she looks away, casting her eyes downward. The joining of our nanotech seems to be more complete than anticipated, as I can actually feel her growing ire, though she tries to hide it.
“You might as well. It won’t be as embarrassing as walking around practically naked with all your men staring at me.” Her shoulders hunch in.
Jealous heat flares through me. I recall every warrior who laid his eyes on her exposed form and I’m ready to march to the com and order all of them blinded. It pleases me that she obviously prefers to be covered in front of them, that she does not wish for them to look at her.
“Very well. To be clear, in the future you will respect your Master. You will not argue with me in front of my men. In fact, you will not speak to me when I am on duty unless given permission."
“I thought you wanted me to use my language.” There’s a slight edge to her voice, a little hint of sarcastic sass, and I have to hide a smile. Why I find her attitude endearing, I cannot say. There are very few of my men who would dare to address me so, but she does it without fear, though her bottom must be burning from the spankings. It was still very pink when she was over my lap on the bridge.
“Not in public. But you are right—I have contradicted myself. But I trust I have made myself clear now. If you think you are unable to follow my orders, then I will procure a gag for you.”
Fear flickers across her face and then is gone, but I can still feel it. She is very brave, my Tribute. An admirable quality.
“Wonderful,” she mutters. “Thanks for making it clear."
I allow myself to smile. She glances at me and shivers. I smile broader.
“Now that the matter is settled, I owe you a punishment,” I say calmly. Inside, I’m quivering with glee as I sit and pat my knee.
She hesitates, then begins to reluctantly move, very slowly. I reach out to take her hand, pulling her forward faster and she allows me to draw her small body over my legs.
I take my time arranging her, undoing the binding from her hair and spreading the shimmering mass over her shoulders. The blue fabric of her dress slides off her pearly skin, exposing the darker pink between her legs.
Her gown really is not sufficient to hide her from my warrior’s scrutiny. I will order the replicator to design more concealing garments for her to wear outside our chambers. It will make her appear more like a bride than a courting Tsenturion female but… she has been claimed by me. Even though she is not Tsenturion, in a manner she is now my bride. A fitting argument if anyone dares to speak up.
Inside our quarters it will be an entirely different matter. Perhaps I will order her to go without clothes. Yes, and command her to disrobe within the first minute of entering, or face punishment.
Punishing my Tribute is far too enjoyable. Even now she is squirming in anticipation. The color of her bottom has faded somewhat to a soft pink, but I can tell it is still sensitive to my touch as I caress the soft mound.
When I clear my throat she ceases moving, going quite still in fact, almost as if she’s hoping I will somehow not notice her.
“Your skin still has color from your previous sessions,” I announce proudly, thinking she will want to know. The manuals indicated that human females have an interest in knowing what their bottoms look like after punishment. “Because there was some ambiguity to my statement, I will make this brief. Next time you disobey publicly, I will be much harsher.”
Little grunts and huffs of air escape as I smack my broad hand over her small, tight cheeks. I pay special attention to the crease between her leg and rounded buttocks, an area I had attended to before but not focused on. Every time my palm lands on that sensitive area, her breath catches, and she lets out a little cry. I pause, wondering if I should push this session further. The manuals outlined the benefits of spanking a Tribute until she releases emotion. After all she’s been through, she might need a good, hard cry.
Yet I find that, like before, I am eager to move on to the next part of a spanking. My cock, seela, and prime seela all press against my suit, threatening to burst out, eager to be inside of her once again. And I’m not the only one who notices.
My Tribute wriggles, pressing herself against my cock. I know she is attempting to incite my lust and end her spanking sooner. Amused, and highly aroused myself, I decide to indulge her. Apparently, I am feeling very lenient now that we are alone. And her bottom is already a nice hot pink, thanks to having been attended to earlier. The cream between her legs is a clear indicator of her arousal.
Lifting her up from my lap, I move her to the side so that she is bent over the edge of the bed. My armor sends a message to the bed and she lets out a little noise of startled surprise as the bed begins to rise until she is at the perfect height to receive my cock. The new placement means she is barely touching the floor with the tips of her toes, leaving the full weight of her body resting on the bed.
Once she’s impaled on my cock, she won’t be able to move, she will be pinned between the bed and myself. I smile, greatly pleased by her predicament.
“Master… please… wait,” she begs. “Let me turn over…”
“No,” I say, gripping her hips and shoving my cock into her wet heat.
6
Dawn
I cry out as Gavrill thrusts inside of me, hard and fast. I knew I was going to be sore, both inside and out, but that hadn’t been why I’d wanted to turn over. Just as I thought—feared—the long tentacle above his cock immediately probes around the entrance to my ass as he held himself inside of me. I try to lurch forward and away from the intrusive touch, but in this position there is nowhere for me to go. All I can do is try and wriggle to the side as he holds himself deep inside of me, groaning. His seela stroking my pussy lips while the long one circles my anus.
It feels better than I want it to.
Invasive. Perverse. Pleasurable.
I try to clench my cheeks, but my position doesn't allow for it, and I make a high-pitched whining noise as I squirm uncomfortably.
Yeah, I read about this stuff, but I've never actually done it. Some fantasies are supposed to remain just that—fantasies.
Yes, I'd been trying to distract him from spanking me again—I would much rather have sex than take any more punishment—but I thought he'd put me on my back again. It hadn't occurred to me what I was risking until he had me bent over the bed and the way everything would line up had flashed into my mind.
When he pulls back, I relax slightly until he's pushing forward again, burying himself inside of me. Every time he does, I can feel his long seela probing, exploring... and I don't dare say anything because I don't want to give him any ideas he hasn't already had. Considering the reading material, I don't have a whole lot of hope for keeping my ass virginal, but I'll cling to whatever hope I can.
But, as usual, my fantasies aren't helping me one bit.
The more
his tentacle teases my tiny hole, the better it feels, and the more my mind starts racing with all the scenes from my favorite books. The dominant alien master demanding his human slave's submission, probing all of her despite her protests, and finally taking her ass... maybe even making her enjoy it, but maybe not.
His hard body slaps against my tender cheeks as he rides me, reigniting the sting in a way that makes my pussy clench around him. Despite how sore I am, both inside from our previous encounter and outside from the spankings, I respond readily to him. The ridges massage the inside of my walls, that odd shaped head fluttering inside of me and stimulating me in all the right places.
I don't know if it's the training or if I've gone full-on Stockholm syndrome, or if it's just the fulfillment of my fantasies, or some unholy combination of all three, but it's like my entire universe has narrowed down to this one room, to this one moment. I spasm around him, my back arching slightly, my pussy lips plumping under the massage of his seela. The embarrassment and trepidation I feel about having my virgin ass probed seeps away as my pleasure rises, the sensations coming from that area contributing to my growing ecstasy.
My sense of helplessness only increases my arousal, and I moan as he takes his time, obviously enjoying riding me. Each thrust brings me a little closer to orgasm, but he’s so deliberate, each stroke so measured, that it’s starting to drive me a little out of my mind. I'm clawing at the sheets as I strain towards an orgasm I can't quite reach yet.
"Please..." The plea escapes my lips, my pussy clenching around his thick shaft, trying to drag him in deeper, hold him there longer. "Please..."
Gavrill
The sweet sound of my Tribute's begging incites me.
