No—she definitely wasn’t. She still hadn’t mentally prepared for a spanking at all. She was suddenly back to fighting against Peyton, only this time he wasn’t so surprised by her new-found strength.
She suddenly realized that Peyton hadn’t been taking off her bindings to release her. He had merely taken them off to prove a point, which was that he could overpower her without any help.
“I won’t let you hurt me!” she cried, just before Peyton pinned her down to the bed, raising her legs high in the air, her hands completely useless to get at him as he unbuckled the belt from around his pants. She didn’t quite realize how helpless she was until he shucked her pants up and off her legs with one firm and quick motion, and she could do nothing much to stop him.
“Honey, hurtin’ you is the last thing I want to do,” he said between gritted teeth. “That’s WHY I’m spankin’ you—a spankin’ never gave anyone any bit of lastin’ hurt.” He was able to double up the belt in his hand as he said, “Now, you’ll really want to keep your hands out of the way, Darlin’,” he warned, watching how she’d curled herself upwards so she could sufficiently protect her bottom with her hands.
It only took a couple of swipes with the belt for her to learn that the belt, though painful, was far more tolerable when it landed on her rear than on her hands.
The belt sent a startling, fiery pain across her flesh, and in moments it was everywhere. It was so quick and so sharp that it left her gasping and sputtering before she was able to get enough breath to start screaming.
Nobody would come to her rescue; that she knew. She had heard the sound of Peyton’s spankings many times herself, and done nothing to stand in his way. She had been content that at least he wasn’t spanking her. In fact, she thought that the fact that Peyton had never spanked her meant that she was simply better than anyone else; that Peyton had too much respect for her. That she was the only woman he considered his equal.
That respect had to have gone—how could Peyton possibly consider her his equal now? Now that he was watching her submit, be it unwillingly, to this horrible position? Where surely her bottom; once a pinnacle of his sexual gratification, was now bearing his punishment, looking certainly not at its best; it was red and striped and splotchy with marks. She could only imagine how horrible she appeared to him right now.
She was wrong. Although she was getting her bottom absolutely fried, as she deserved, Peyton couldn’t help but suffer through an incredibly uncomfortable erection. There was something unbearably sexy about forcing his wife to submit to his punishment, even though it confused him. He had done this with many women, and never thought of himself as a ‘spanking man’.
But maybe he was—at least with Mary, who was already unbearably sexy no matter what she had been doing. Every second of every day, she looked good, smelt good, and tempted him with her luscious hips and bemused him with her expressive, large doe eyes. Now, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her beautiful, reddening bottom as it squirmed about, trying to avoid the leather stripe of his belt to no avail.
The only thing that was really getting in his way of putting his belt aside and burying himself in her moist, bare, fully exposed pussy was because he didn’t want to confuse her. This wasn’t about sex. This was about punishing her disrespect.
“If you ever so much think about slappin’ me again, Girl, you’ll come away thinkin’ you sat down on a hot stove top. You get me?” he forced himself to lecture, to keep his mind on-topic as he went into a quick rhythm of spanks.
“Yes! Yes, sir, I get you!”
“And if you bite me…”
“I’m sorry I bit you! I was scared!” she blubbered, pushing down on her thighs, trying her best to keep them off of her bottom.
What he had planned to do in the beginning of the spanking was to start with the belt and end off with his hand—to give her two spankings. One for the slap and one for the bite. But he didn’t—he could easily see the tears streaming down her agonized face. It was as if pain in itself was a whole new, horrible sensation that she had never felt before. No, he couldn’t proceed much further. “You do it again you’ll think today was just patty-cake,” he still threatened, and meant it.
His father was a true head-of-household, and although Peyton had never seen it growing up, it was no secret that his father spanked his mother from time to time. ‘Don’t you worry, Son,’ his father had said to him once on the issue. ‘A woman’s bottom can take a lot.’ The advice had served him well when he was Prime.
Still, he didn’t want to push her first experience. Not long after she stopped fighting and was sobbing, he let go of her and dropped his belt to the side of the bed. When her feet were back on the bed, she rolled her body over to her side, her body vibrating from her ragged breaths and her hands gripping her bright-red bottom tightly.
Peyton laid his massive body down next to her and carefully brushed some hair out of her face and behind her ear. He kissed the back of her neck.
“I only want to keep you safe,” he told her softly, moving his rough, thick fingers to her hip and petting the soft, naked flesh there softly. “You have to let me make some rules.”
“But I’m your wife!” she finally sobbed. “How could you just… just spank me?”
“Because you are my wife. And you’re so important,” Peyton told her with such assurance that he seemed to think it was obvious. “You know—when these Swarii fall in love, it’s blind. They’ll protect anyone they’ve unioned with because their life now revolves around them, and their life would be pointless without them. I know how they feel. When I saw you, it was magic. You’re the sun I merely revolve around… If somethin’ ever happened to you, it would kill me. Literally, I think. I couldn’t imagine it. So, if you do somethin’ that scares the shit out of me, Mary, that only gives me one option and that’s to do anythin’—and I mean anythin’—to keep you safe. Even if you do think I’m erring on the side of caution, and you think I’m an overprotective brute. I’m okay with that, as long as nothin’ happens to you.”
Her crying and her anger were subsiding, although Peyton didn’t see the confusion in her eyes. It was very sweet, what he said. She had never once doubted his loyalty or commitment to her. When she first met him, she was practically knocked off her feet by how this large, handsome, normally-grumpy man could treat her so differently than any other woman. And this was why; because she was different. She was more than a woman to him.
So Peyton never considered her as his equal, after all, like she had thought. No, no—Peyton had put them both on different plains of existence from the beginning. She wasn’t beneath him, though. She wasn’t a possession to him as much as someone who could possess the air he breathed. It was nothing like she feared and far beyond what she hoped she was to him.
She slowly turned around and pushed her head into his chest, finally accepting his comfort. “I love you,” she admitted tenderly.
“And I love you, too,” he assured her.
“I know. And so, unfortunately, does my tush.” She felt his chest echo with a deep laugh and grinned into him. “Let’s say we try to avoid these displays of affection in the future?”
“That’d be fine by me, Darlin’. I’ll just follow your lead on that.”
She pouted for a second at that answer, but then snuggled into him harder, content, even as the burning pain on her bottom’s skin continued on.
Chapter Eight
“You’re gonna be a good girl for Fie, right?” Graham couldn’t help but ask as he picked his wife up so her feet didn’t touch the ground and kissed her.
“Of course,” she replied, trying to sound as annoyed as possible at the insinuation that she wouldn’t be good. Not that she had planned on being good, of course. She planned on getting quite a large experiment built and tested that day, and Graham and his men would only get in her way. “I’m not a child, you know?”
“I know.” He grinned and further explained, “It’s because of this very old Swaraan proverb
: The very small tend to get in very large mischief. Don’t mind me; I’m just paranoid. But for my sake, not many men have such beautiful, intelligent wives. That being said, please refrain from fixing anything before I get back—I’d feel better if I were there.”
“Why? Because you think I’ll break something?” she charged, pouting.
“No, it’s because Thorton told me you made him stand behind you for two hours yesterday with a club to break your arms in case you accidentally hit the main power grid and you couldn’t let go of the electrical current.”
“That was a safety precaution, Graham,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “I thought you liked safety precautions.”
“That’s not exactly a safety precaution—that’s a plan-b. I don’t like my wife having the need for a plan-b…” He chuckled at her suddenly very surly expression and kissed her cheek. “We’ll talk about it later. Just be good.”
She smiled and pressed her face to his warm one, and it felt good. The thing about space was that it was cold. And maybe because the Swarii were so used to space travel—even before the Swaraan became the ‘Swarii’ they had been at it, traveling and mining the planets around them—that their body temperatures were quite a bit warmer than those of humans. When necessary, they were even able to lower their body temperatures drastically. Ellie was not the same way. She was cold, all of the time. Graham felt like a giant heating pad as far as she was concerned.
“That’s it, I’m bringing you and Mary back some clothes,” he replied, fingering the bottom of the skirt Mary had made for her yesterday, which was now flowing over his hands as he held Ellie to him. “My little ice cube.”
“Go for it!” she granted with a laugh, kissing his impossibly handsome cheek. “The faster you go, the faster you’ll get back,” she told him. “I’m freezing my buns off.”
Because he had never heard the expression, he laughed and responded, “You know, in the case of freezing to death, your buns would be the last thing to freeze.” He grabbed her bottom with his hand as if it accentuated his point.
“And I think we’re already to that point, Graham.”
He hummed thoughtfully. “Then I should go.” Finally, he put her back down on her feet. He turned to Fie and pointed to her. “The most important thing in the universe is right here, got it?”
Fie grinned. “Don’t worry, Boss. She’ll be here in one piece when you get back if I can help it.”
“Good.” He reached down, gave the back of Ellie’s skirt a playful swat, and then looked over at Thorton, who obviously thought he was looking pretty cool with his riding goggles and open jacket as he mounted his motorcycle. “Don’t get into any fights. No gambling, Thorton. You’re on duty, remember.”
“Don’t worry, Boss. Professional’s my middle name,” Thorton chuckled.
“Be… be careful with my baby,” Ellie said, gesturing to the motorcycle. “It’s been through a lot, and it’s been a lot of work…”
“Don’t worry yourself into knots, Kitten,” Thorton replied, actually sounding a little snippy, as if he really didn’t want a girl to give him motorcycle advice. “I know what I’m doing.”
He then started the motorcycle, which, in a puff of steam, hovered into the air. He then gave it two revs, and made it go flying backwards about seven feet, nearly knocking Fie over. Ellie gasped with horror.
Thorton added sheepishly, “Just… keeping you on your toes…” After that, he did it right, and disappeared down the ramp into the cold, frosty air of the space station.
“Beast, you coming?” Graham laughed as he watched Peyton continue to vivaciously kiss Mary. It looked far more like foreplay than a goodbye. Ellie knew better than to give them any grief about it; they were still enjoying not having to hide their relationship from anyone. Kissing in public probably seemed like a thrill, indeed.
Peyton lifted a single finger to say to Graham to wait a minute, and then finally broke the kiss and said a couple more sweet nothings to Mary, whose cheeks flushed.
Peyton finally left and walked by Ellie to tap her nose and say, “Don’t get into any trouble.”
Ellie’s mouth dropped open with protest, but before she could complain, he walked down the ramp and the group of men closed the spaceship doors behind them.
“I’m sorely treated in my time,” she complained to Fie, turning and walking in the direction of the lounge.
“You’re very loved, though. Both of you. So, be patient,” Fie instructed, putting his arms around both of them as they walked along. “What would you like to do today? Watch a movie? Play a game?”
“Oh, whatever you’d like to do,” Ellie replied. “I should probably take a nap and eat lunch soon,” she added, hoping Fie could nearly see a halo around her head.
Fie was suddenly nervous, instead. Ellie did nothing but complain about napping and lunches—she thought she should only do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted.
Mary seemed to sense his hesitation. “A movie, definitely a movie… I’m going to make myself something nice to drink, though, if you want something, Fie? Ellie?”
“Oh, yeah, whatever you’re having,” Ellie said, grinning widely.
Fie smiled at Mary. “Sure, thank you.”
Mary grinned. “Just get the movie started. I’ll be around…”
* * *
Ellie leaned over Fie’s sleeping, snoring body and poked him sharply with her finger. “So, he’s out?” she asked, looking towards Mary, who opened one of Fie’s eyelids.
“Yep. Out for the count. Hopefully I didn’t overdue it…”
“How long do I have before he wakes up?” Ellie asked, poking the giant man again.
“I don’t know. Maybe three hours. Possibly five. It’s really hard to account for someone of his size… That, and when you’re just dropping someone a mickey in their drink, you never can be sure how much they’ve actually had. I’m guessing he took half the dose I gave him… Hopefully,” she hedged, grimacing.
Looking satisfied, Ellie finally stopped poking at Fie. “Cool. Thanks for doing this for me, by the way,” Ellie said, standing up and zipping up the front of her coat. “Sure you don’t want to come with me? Be my assistant?”
“No way. It’s like… thirty degrees out there. Just don’t get fried—I’d feel guilty. Don’t fall, either.”
“You’re not going to give me a lecture about how this is dangerous, and stupid, and…” Ellie asked, raising a curious eyebrow.
“Nope. I think going out into that sort of cold with a short skirt is punishment enough. You’re nineteen, Ellie. When I was nineteen, I took some ‘shrooms and got lost on a flight of stairs for about nine hours. You never got that wondrous experience. You need the chance to learn from your own damn mistakes.” She wobbled her head back and forth for a second, but then added, “You get caught though, and it certainly wasn’t ME who slipped him drugs, if you catch my drift. If you tell on me I will get even with you even if I have to live to be a thousand.”
Ellie put her thumb up in understanding. “You got it. I’m not a tattle-tale like your man.”
“I know,” Mary said with a dismissive wave, settling down to actually watch the monitor before her, and the musical that was playing on there (it seemed like all—or at least the vast majority—of Swaraan television consisted of musicals). “That’s why I help. Have fun. If something goes wrong, I don’t know you’re out there,” she warned.
“That’s fine.”
* * *
“This is SO not fine,” Ellie grumped four hours later, freezing her tuckus off. “How the hell hasn’t she come out to check on me yet? It’s getting late, for God sakes! I’m gonna die out here.”
She knew she was lucky that she wasn’t dead already—she had fallen to the wing of the spaceship from the landing she had been on. She had just finished her modifications to their communication system, and while walking back to the ladder she had slipped on black ice that had frozen to the metal hull of the ship.
“ICE!”
she coughed at the thought. “Goddamn it!” She hugged her legs closer to her chest. She had manipulated the jacket she was wearing so that it covered her legs, but she had to shift every now and then when her butt began to feel like it was freezing to the ship.
At this point, she didn’t even care about what horrible punishment would occur if Graham found her there, just as long as she was found. Her face was beginning to hurt. But the men weren’t even expected to return for a few more hours yet, maybe longer.
She was going to freeze to the wing, she thought. Freeze to death. On the wing. At a cold space station. Shit.
But finally, she thought she heard the sound of a motorcycle approach—Thorton’s? “Could it possibly be?” She got up on her hands and knees, hoping to see his figure drive into the ship… but she didn’t. It wasn’t a motorcycle at all. A car hovered by the front landing and parked itself.
A man who didn’t look too old, but still had graying hair—probably about fifty or so—stepped out and adjusted his jacket. He looked around at the ship for a moment and then stepped forward.
“Hello? Hello?” Ellie shouted. “Sir! Sir? Hello?” She watched the man spin around, looking around him, and then up until his eyes finally landed on Ellie.
He certainly looked both confused and surprised at seeing a little human girl on the wing. He shouted something up to her.
She wondered if shal’ta could make it all the way down to his level—it could only travel a certain distance without the help of technology. She tried, anyway. In the last twenty hours, since her shot, she had actually had a couple of good attempts at communicating with it and not just listening.
But she wasn’t exactly lucky. He didn’t look like he could understand her. It was a language impasse. “Help me!” she finally shouted down. “Help, help!” She waved her arms around, knowing it was horrible charades, but not caring.
Never Submit! The Swarii Brides, Book One Page 13
