by Renee Rose
Her heart squeezed uncomfortably. She wasn’t even sure why. Just because Rok had been thoughtful enough to leave food? Or was it something more?
She’d been broken, but not in any way a master had broken her before. Last night, Rok had made her choose to stay with him. Choose to submit to his punishment, to serve as his sex slave. And she had chosen.
As much as she’d like to believe she’d chosen with her cool, rational mind because staying with Rok offered greater chance of escape, deep down, she knew it wasn’t true.
It went far deeper.
She needed to see where this thing with Rok was going. To understand the emotions he stirred in her, as disturbing as they may be. She spent the morning trying to identify them and came up with one word: need.
He created desire in her—not just for his touch, for sexual release, but also for his attention, his approval, his nearness. She wanted to be with him at all times, to watch the grace of his hulking body in motion, to admire the easy command he had of his ship and crew. Because they didn’t act subservient to him, yet they all still deferred.
They’ve chosen him, too.
A tingle ran through her when she realized it. This was the sort of master he was. The kind others chose to follow, not because they were forced by station or threat of punishment, but because he was the one who led best.
It brought home the problem that plagued the escaped slaves—lack of a clear, trusted leader. They’d all been so eager to be free, to follow their own will, they couldn’t get organized around any authority. Decision-making had been impossible because the group wouldn’t even agree to a democratic rule of majority vote for each decision.
The night before, when she’d realized his dead lover called him master, jealousy had gutted her. She’d swallowed back the hurt because his pain was palpable but sent up such a longing for what he’d had, for what they’d had together, she could scarcely breathe.
Love.
The only inkling she had of its meaning was when she tried to conjure up a picture of her parents. Though no specific memories came up, she was certain she’d been loved. She had known love, once.
The beings who hadn’t—girls brought to the training institute as infants—never could be trusted. They never made friends with the other girls or helped each other out. She had had friends there.
She’d forgotten in that moment of self-pity the night before when she said she’d never known love.
Though the trainers separated any slaves they suspected of forming bonds with each other, the children had formed bonds, nonetheless. They comforted each other after punishments, protected one another’s emotions and souls, even when they couldn’t protect each other’s physical bodies.
Remembering them renewed in her the vision that had died on Jesel—a free human race. She still believed it could be done, wanted to participate in the liberation of her people.
It strengthened her resolve. She still did have a purpose beyond her own basic survival. She must escape and find a way to help others to escape. There had to be a way. If only she could stop Rok’s craft from entering Ocretion airspace.
She knew nothing about spacecraft, but maybe there was a way to disable this one—enough that he’d have to land somewhere sooner rather than later. Create a slow leak in the fuel supply, perhaps.
She climbed off the sleeping platform and pulled Rok’s shirt on. She liked that he’d worn it, that it belonged to him.
Like she did.
No—he wasn’t keeping her. Was that what made her heart squelch so? She’d finally been claimed by a master whose touch she wanted—craved, actually—but he didn’t have any interest in keeping her around? Worse, he planned to send her to her death so he could claim the bounty on her head.
Jagged pain slashed her chest. She had to escape. Either that, or she had to make him change his mind. Somehow, escaping seemed the less daunting task.
She ate the food. It had the deadened taste of food that had been reconstituted, but wasn’t horrible. She wondered what and when Rok ate.
The door slid open, and the alien in question leaned against the frame, looking sexy as hell in a skintight black undershirt and matching black flight pants. His gaze fell on her, cool and assessing.
“How are you feeling?”
A riot of emotions rippled through her. She realized she didn’t know her role. He didn’t like when she “played” at slave, nor could she bring out the steely revolutionary who’d stolen his ship. She didn’t owe him anger after the kindness he’d shown her the night before.
Thankfully, he let her off without answering. “Care for a shower this morning? I imagine you need the washroom, at least.”
She exhaled. “Yes, please. That would be wonderful.” A new shyness made it too difficult to look at his face, so she settled into her usual slave-gaze in the direction of his feet.
He caught her chin when she approached and lifted it. His expression held curiosity, and he seemed to see right into her soul. She shifted on her feet and swallowed.
He lowered his head and brushed his lips across hers.
She went still. A kiss. The tenderness of it rocked her right down to her bare feet.
Rok groaned against her mouth and shifted the hand at her chin to the back of her head, holding her still as he deepened the kiss. His other hand gripped her ass, squeezing hard.
She lifted her thigh to wrap it around his legs, and he immediately palmed her entire ass and lifted it higher, until her core met the hardened bulge of his cock through the flight pants.
“Veck, little girl. I’m hard for you already.” He inhaled deeply with his face at her neck. “Your scent drives me mad. You’d best get to the washroom fast before I decide you need a hard veck up against this wall first.”
She wasn’t sure she didn’t need a hard veck up against the wall first, but her bladder protested so she ducked past Rok and padded toward the washroom.
~.~
Rok waited for his little slave to emerge from the washroom, her freshly washed skin just as intoxicating in scent as it had been before her cleaning. She still wore his shirt, which he adored on her.
“Have you ever played walnees?” he asked.
Her blank look told him she had not.
“It’s a strategy game. Come, I’ll teach you. It’s fun.” But as he led her to the exercise/game room, the lights flashed a warning amber and the mechanical voice of the flight computer announced, “Approaching space debris. Repeat, approaching space debris. Adjust flight course immediately.”
He grabbed Lily’s hand, and they sprinted to the flight controls. Mierna was already snapping her safety harness in place in the copilot’s seat.
Janu and Jaso sped around the corner, followed by Gaurdo and Depri.
“Everyone buckle in,” he barked and shoved Lily into a seat, yanking the harness down around her.
“I’ve got it.” She snatched the buckle from his hands and fastened it for herself.
“Activate protective shields,” he barked at Mierna.
“Already on it,” she sang out.
He slid into his seat, buckling with one hand as his other reached to flick on manual control. Taking the directional knobs, he dodged the debris flying at the ship from all sides, jumping to the right, then left, swooping around, flipping to fly sideways between two large pieces. Smaller pieces hit off the outside of the ship, sounding far worse than they probably actually were. In his experience, the space junk had to be big and heavy enough to throw them off course when it hit to cause any external damage. So far, he’d avoided those largest pieces.
But the debris field became thicker.
“Fastest way out is 120 degrees,” Mierna reported. “But the debris is thickest in that direction.”
He angled north, but almost immediately dropped back down to avoid smashing the ship. “Negative. Too hostile. What are my other options?” He slowed their speed to navigate the heavy influx of space trash.
“Incoming,” Mierna s
houted. “Spacecraft, appears unfriendly.”
“Gaurdo and Depri, prepare to fire on my command.” He kept his clipped tones calm, although it appeared they were under attack. Space pirates sometimes used the cover of debris to lie in wait.
“Three more—shots fired.”
He dodged the laser fire from the first ship, swung around and lined his ship up to fire back. “Fire at will,” he commanded.
His world narrowed to the razor sharp reflexes necessary to maneuver the ship in and out of debris and enemy fire. “Take the veckers down,” he growled when he provided a straight shot for his crew to fire.
Their laser fire hit the enemy ship, and it exploded in a burst of flames. Immediately, the three other ships charged his, obviously intent on revenge.
He dropped straight down, swerving around a piece of debris. Unfortunately, a huge piece caught the top of the craft, sending them into a spin. With a curse, he wrestled the controls to ease the ship out of the spin.
Laser fire struck their shields on the starboard side.
He flipped the ship one hundred and eighty degrees, making them hover upside down directly in front of one of the enemy ships.
Jano and Jaso fired on the ship and it exploded into flames, blinding him.
He eased off the speed and righted the craft. The other two enemy ships retreated. An alarm bell sounded, signaling damage to the craft.
Gaurdo unbuckled from his seat. “I’ll look at it,” he rumbled.
Rok dipped the craft to the right, finally escaping the field of debris.
“Clear,” Mierna reported.
He shoved the thrust to full throttle, and the ship sped forward out of the treacherous territory. “Status, Gaurdo?” He sent his voice through to Gaurdo’s flight collar.
“Not yet,” came his gruff reply.
“Are we talking life-threatening damage?”
“No.”
The rest of the crew unbuckled and left the cockpit, presumably to help Gaurdo.
He glanced over his shoulder. An unfamiliar urge to protect the female behind him made him itchy over the damage to the ship. Lily’s lovely face had gone pale, but it was the look in her eyes that made his heart stall.
She appeared to be in awe...of him.
“Where’d you learn to fly like that?” She moistened her lips with that pretty little tongue of hers.
He shrugged. “Always flown. It’s all I know how to do.”
“You know how to fight.”
Her insistence on being impressed by him made something lodge in his throat. Though he’d never sought meaning or purpose in his life, some odd desire to become or do something more rose up in him.
“All I know how to do is lie down and take it.”
The bitterness in her voice shredded him. A great, dark anger surged within him at all the idiot masters she’d had who hadn’t seen her as a being. Hadn’t treasured her. He’d be vecked if he wasn’t going to try to show her something different.
“Come here.” He beckoned to her.
Surprise flitted over her face, and her fingers fumbled at her harness. When it popped free, she came to him. It pleased him how easily she obeyed—and not out of fear. She was beginning to trust him.
He pulled her down onto his lap and buried his face in her neck, breathing in the scent of her silky hair. “You want to learn how to fly?”
She pulled back, eyebrows raised. “Really?”
He shrugged. “We both know you’re capable of far more than lying down and taking it. You’re intelligent. You’re quick. And you know how to follow the path of least resistance.”
Her blush made him want to take her long and hard just to prove he’d meant it, but he restrained his desire. This moment was for Lily to be something other than a receptacle, for once. “Let’s start with flying a ship. That way, the next time you steal some idiot’s ship, you won’t have to crash land it.”
She choked on a laugh. He swore light beamed from her face, her smile was so bright. He arranged her on his lap and placed her hands on the controls, explaining what each one did.
“It’s not on autopilot now, so any movements you make will be real. Go ahead and try it.”
“But is the ship okay? We’re not going to lose a wing or anything are we?”
“If we do, I promise I’ll take over.” He grinned.
She shifted the directional thrust and the ship wobbled, one wing dipping.
“Help!” she gasped.
He covered her hand and nudged the plane back into balance. “It’s touchy, but you get the feel of it after a while.”
Gaurdo’s voice came through on his collar. “There’s been damage to the outer shell. We won’t make it to Ocretian airspace. We’ll have to stop sooner.”
He cursed. “How much sooner?”
“Two to four planet rotations.”
“Mierna, research possible landing locations.”
“Already working on it,” she sang out, implying she’d already known this outcome.
Lily shifted and settled on his lap, sending his cock into false expectations about what they were doing.
Soon, he’d veck her. She was his to take any time he liked. But, right now, he loved her pleasure and delight.
~.~
After showing her how to fly and feeding her a midday meal, Rok led her to his chamber and pulled her only covering—his thin undershirt—off her. His gaze dropped to her nipples, which tightened the moment his horns stiffened and his lids drooped.
Rok didn’t miss the change. “They’re begging for my mouth, aren’t they?”
Heat flooded her core.
He tweaked one between his thumb and finger, pinching just hard enough to make her lips part. “You’ll have to beg me for that later, little human. Right now, I want you to make yourself comfortable with your fingers between your legs. You get that pussy nice and slick for me because, when I come back, it needs to be wet and ready. Understand?”
She didn’t understand, not really. The instructions, yes, but not his game. But she nodded anyway. “Yes, master.”
His gaze sharpened, and he studied her face, perhaps searching for her sincerity. She thought she’d meant it, but whatever he saw didn’t convince him. His eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that,” he growled. “I’ll punish you when I return.”
She didn’t experience dread at that promise. More of a morbid curiosity bordering on excitement. She wondered what more the sadistic alien had in mind for her.
He left her in his chamber.
She climbed on the sleeping platform and gingerly reached down to touch between her legs. The truth was she had no experience with pleasuring herself. It had been forbidden at the training institute, and afterward, she’d never had an interest. She’d spent most of her time disassociated from those parts of her body—from all of her body, really.
Until Rok, she’d never known pleasure of any kind.
What made her wet and ready? She explored her folds with a sort of scientific curiosity. Unpleasant memories of being used while completely dry and ill-prepared rushed in, and a wave of nausea made her stop.
She couldn’t do this.
Rok could do whatever he wanted with her, but she wouldn’t willingly pleasure herself. She just didn’t need that sort of thing.
With her arms stiffly by her sides, she closed her eyes, removing herself from her body and the situation she didn’t know how to handle.
She didn’t know how long it took Rok to return—her sense of time had floated away with her mind.
He frowned when he saw her position on the bed.
She sat up quickly.
“Spread your legs and show me your pussy.”
She bent her knees and opened her feet wide.
“Is she wet for me?” Rok crossed the small space and dragged his thumb across her slit. It caught in her folds. He raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”
Sullenness stole over her—an unfamiliar emotion. Certainly one she’d never allowed
herself to reveal to a master. “I didn’t know how,” she said stiffly.
“No?” Only polite surprise tinged his voice. “I’ll show you, then.” He climbed onto the platform and sat with his back against the wall. After widening his legs, he grasped her around the waist and pulled her back flush against his front, her buttocks nested against the bulge in his flight pants.
He tapped her clitoris lightly with the pad of his index finger. “You know about this spot, I presume.” Tap, tap, tap.
Her sluggish arousal sputtered back to life, blood rushing to the area.
“Did you touch yourself here?”
“No.”
He slapped her pussy, and she yelped, squeezing her thighs around his hand.
“Naughty slave.” He picked her knees up and draped them over the outside of his legs, so they were pinned wide open. “Keep them here, or there will be consequences. I expect your full cooperation with your punishments.”
He slapped her pussy again.
She sucked her breath in across her teeth and threw her head back on his shoulder.
“When I tell you to prepare yourself”—he spanked her poor sex with even, firm slaps— “I expect you to obey me.” He delivered five more and swiped the pad of his finger across her sex.
This time, it slid easily, her natural lubricant flowing.
“That’s better,” he murmured, spreading the moisture up to her clit and tracing a slow, torturous circle around it. “Maybe all you need is my punishment to get you hot.”
She flushed. That couldn’t be true, could it? Yet she couldn’t remember ever growing moist, except with him.
He flipped her around so she lay across his lap then threaded her hand underneath her hips and between her legs. “Stroke yourself, beautiful. Keep it wet while I spank you.”
She touched her sex, surprised at how plump and swollen her folds had grown.
Rok brought his palm down on her right cheek, hard.
She yelped and curled her fingers back into her hand, bracing for the pain.
Though the hand was underneath her, somehow he knew. He slapped the back of her leg, which hurt even worse, and reached around to replace her fingers. With his digits tangled over hers, he gave her a quick tutorial on how to touch herself, making a tight circle over her clit then thrusting a finger inside her.
