by Alana Khan
“It happens to less than one out of ten thousand brides.”
Is he jacking off? Are my pain and terror turning him on? Could I hate him more than I do at this moment? This is how he responds to my personal agony?
He pulls me out of the fetal position I’ve discovered is the least painful way to arrange my limbs. He’s spitting on my pussy. Is the bastard going to accost me at a time like this? There has to be a special place in hell for him.
No, I’m in hell. I never could have imagined pain like this—no one has. That question they ask you at the doctor’s? Where is your pain on a one to ten scale? No, this is a hundred. A million. This pain is enough to kill me.
He’s pressing his cock into me. As if every nerve ending wasn’t experiencing the fires of hell, I have to deal with his huge purple cock shoving into my dry pussy. Is there a word stronger than hate? Wasn’t I going to invent that word? I can’t think.
That’s right, asshole. Just take me. I don’t care.
My eyes flick to the galley. If I could just see the garbage chute, I’d feel better. It would reassure me that as soon as I can slide off this bed and crawl the twenty feet there, I can slip out the chute and be dead in a second. Bliss. Peace. Death.
He’s humping me. I glance down to see if my flesh is liquefying everywhere his meaty hands touch me. I can’t bear to look at him. I wish we were both dead.
He grunts and I feel him spurt into me. Twenty seconds later, the fires seem to abate. Fahrenheit 451 is down to at least 400. It’s receding quickly now. My brain isn’t on fire. Maybe in a minute or two, I’ll be able to think.
He rolls onto his back, carrying me with him so I’m lying on his front. His gaze is bouncing from my hairline to my lips. Is he looking for evidence of my pain? It certainly turned him on a moment ago.
“Better, zara? Less agony?” His hand is midway to my face, but he snatches it back. “I don’t want to hurt you. Is the pain better?”
He doesn’t want to hurt me? What is he talking about? He accosted a woman who was rolling in agony.
I close my eyes and take my first deep breath since this ordeal began. I’m down to a ten on the pain scale. It’s bliss. I look at my arms, checking one last time that my skin didn’t char. It looks pink and normal, although I can’t imagine how it’s still intact.
“Water, zara? Want to go back in the shower? What can I do to make you feel better?”
“Don’t rape me again.” I grab a deep breath and push it out through parched lips, then remember my place, “Sir.”
He bestows on me the sweetest look I’ve ever received—anywhere, anytime, from anyone.
“Sincere apologies for that, zara. It wasn’t rape. I wasn’t trying to harm you; I was desperately trying to ease your pain. It was my sperm, my essence, that cooled your fires.” He skims away the hair plastered to my sweaty forehead. His touch is like a whispered breeze, barely there. “It was the only thing I could think of to help you, Victoria. I did what I could to ease your pain.”
My head is still spinning. My brain isn’t working. “Water,” is all I can croak.
Within seconds he jumps up, brings water, and lifts me so I can drink big gulps until I’m satisfied. When I fall back to bed, I realize the covers are soaked with my sweat. Evidently he does, too, because he manages to change the sheets with me in the bed.
The sheets are cool and soft on my skin and I think they’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. My pain is down to a five. I might be able to fall asleep. I drink more water when it’s offered and drift off, not even taking a moment to hate him. There will be plenty of time for that later.
Voxx
This happens to less than one in ten thousand. I never imagined it would happen to my Victoria. I’ve never seen anyone in that much pain. My throat constricts in guilt. I did this to her.
I want to pull her tight and comfort her in her sleep, but I need to get onto the computer and read up on this condition.
“Human Allergic Reaction to Zinnian Essence” by Dr. Plenn is a lengthy, dry, scientific paper. No wonder I never finished reading as I prepared for the Quest. It says there is no test for it, which relieves a tiny amount of my guilt. For a moment I was cursing myself for not conducting the proper tests.
There is a .00013 chance of this reaction to a certain antigen in my sperm. There is no known cure. Only regular inoculations of the very sperm that caused the reaction will keep the pain from recurring. Plenn created the ‘Rapid Inoculation Protocol’. Prolonged time without the antigen could result in death.
I speed through this article, then continue reading everything I can find. Nowhere does it explain the specifics of what will happen if the inoculations don’t continue.
Can she even choose to go back to Earth, or will it kill her to be without my essence for more than a specified number of hours? It’s called Zinn Rejection Syndrome—how fitting.
After seven increasingly desperate comms, I locate Dr. Plenn and describe Victoria’s reaction. He asks me a hundred questions, then pronounces, “I’m not certain this is a true allergic reaction to your sperm. She’s been with you for a week. It could be a reaction to any number of foods or other allergens onboard your ship including cleaning products or laundry soap. Contact me immediately if this recurs.”
“I’ll watch her closely, and keep a course set for Zinn on the computer. If this happens again, we’ll fly there immediately.”
“I’ll make a batch of antidote according to the results of my latest experiments. Although my tests have been inconclusive, I have high hopes for its efficacy. We’ll be ready for you if you need us.”
I cook her chernoy, its milky sweetness will give her nourishment without being too heavy. After lying down with her I notice everything has shifted in my attitude toward her. My protective instincts were always strong, although I had nothing to protect her from. Until now. My priority needs to be on her safety from this moment forward.
I skim her tangled hair off her forehead. Her skin is still hot and flushed. I flash to the moment she was writhing in pain on the shower floor. I had no idea how to ease her torment, but the one thought drumming through my brain was to take her pain somehow.
She would be happy and healthy and attending one of her barrister classes right now if I hadn’t stolen her from her bed.
Day Seven
Victoria
I wake up, one leg and one arm sprawled across Voxx’s hard-muscled body. Yesterday’s events hurtle onto the screen of my mind.
In the past, I’ve found that once pain is gone, it’s hard to remember just how terrible it was. But the pain I experienced yesterday? That I can remember vividly. I watch myself writhing in agony. I remember my surprise when the wetness seeping from my eyes wasn’t red. I thought everything inside my body was liquefying.
I order my body to stand down because my anxiety is ramping up in reaction to yesterday’s experience.
Recalling Voxx’s response to my pain? Raping me in the middle of my agony? I move away from him while I curse my traitorous body for hugging him in the middle of the night. With just that little effort of moving to the other side of the bed, every inch of my skin feels as if it’s being stabbed. It’s no wonder. The amount of pain I endured would have affected every muscle, cell, and fiber in my body.
To think I was enjoying his company, inviting his touch? That makes me sick to my stomach. In the future, I’ll need to remind myself how much I hate him. Although after yesterday, I don’t think my core will be aching for him anymore. Even that part of me has to remember how badly he hurt me.
“Zara.” His unearthly silver eyes pop open and inspect me. “How are you?”
“What day is it?”
“Arumday. Why does that matter?”
“How many more days do I have left before Choosing Day?”
“It’s Day Seven.”
“I missed my ten minutes of honesty last night. I want it now,” I demand. I have a lot to say and I want the amnesty he’
s allowed me for ten minutes every night.
His eyes shutter as he takes a deep breath. He knows why I’m asking. He has to realize I want to eviscerate him. I’m sure he’ll deny me. As much of an unfeeling psychopath as he is, for some reason he doesn’t like it when I tell him how I really feel about him.
“I apologized, zara. Don’t you remember?” He looks so sincere… and contrite. Certainly, I’d remember if he’d apologized. Even if he did, why would he do such a horrible thing in the first place?
“No, Sir.” I put all the hatred I can muster into that one odious, repulsive word. “What I do remember is that someone who shall remain nameless spit on my most private parts during the worst moment of my life. Worse than waking up tied down and blindfolded. Worse than being threatened with punishment for no reason.” Shit, the memory of being ordered to stand on the red square waiting for my punishment the other day wakes up my pussy like a hungry puppy who’s been called to dinner.
“And that person accosted me while I was writhing in pain. That’s what I remember. And I want my ten minutes!”
“Listen, zara—”
“I’m not zara to you,” my voice is angry, vehement. “You don’t deserve to use that term of endearment after what you’ve done. And you don’t deserve to be listened to until I’ve had my say.” The most shocking thing about this interchange, more shocking than that I found the nerve to say these things, is that he hasn’t punished me. He hasn’t even threatened to punish me.
“Ten minutes. Starting now,” he says as all the clocks begin their countdown.
He looks… resigned. I’ve never seen this expression on his heinous purple face before.
“I hate you Voxx from Zinn,” I launch immediately. I have a lot to say and I doubt I’ll last the entire ten minutes before he threatens something painful. But he doesn’t.
“You’re completely without feeling, a true sociopath, a terrible human being,” I tell him nine minutes later as I’m winding down. “Well, you’re not a human being; you’re a terrible Zinnian. Your mother and father seemed very nice on the vid you showed me. I imagine they raised you right. They’d be very disappointed in you.
“I had a very nice life on Earth and you stole me away from it. The excruciating pain last night would have never happened if you’d left me where I belonged.
“Drop me back on Earth. I’ll never choose to stay with you on Choosing Day, certainly you must know that by now. In addition to being my kidnapper and my captor, I consider you my rapist now.”
I’m so tired I fall back onto my pillows. He’ll hurt me now, or humiliate me, or—worst thing of all—he’ll touch me in all the right places so my traitorous body will invite his loathsome invasion. I close my eyes, waiting for his punishment.
“I’m sorry, zara. My sperm induced an allergic reaction. It’s very rare. I didn’t warn you about it because I didn’t think it was likely. But it hit you like a tidal wave.
“I watched and there was nothing I could do except give you more sperm which acted as an inoculation. I knew it would provide antibodies to fight your body’s rejection. I couldn’t think of a faster way to get it into your system. It was torture for me to watch you in torment like that. If I… if I could have taken your pain, I would have traded places with you in a heartbeat.”
I lean up weakly on an elbow to look at him, to figure out if this is just a load of crap. His gorgeous silver eyes are looking straight at me; they’re guileless.
“This is true?”
He nods.
“Your jizz caused an allergic reaction which could only be cured by more jizz?”
“It works under the principles of inoculation. Continued regular doses will help you build up antibodies.”
Although I was studying law, not medicine, I dredge up basic facts about inoculation, immunization, and vaccination from my undergrad science classes. It makes sense.
“You just listened to me excoriate you for ten minutes without interrupting?”
“That was our deal.”
Crap. Life was actually easier when I hated him.
I was in so much pain I was incapable of cogent thought, but as I scroll through my hazy memories, I realize he was taking no pleasure from what he did. I remember his tender touch as he carried me gently, how he gave me water, and changed my sheets. I guess my fevered brain mashed everything together and confused me.
Look at him, his brow is furrowed in concern, and his big hand is clasped gently around mine. He leans down and kisses the top of my head.
“I’ve contacted the best doctor on Zinn. He’s working on an experimental treatment. I just want you to be healthy again. I didn’t think this was possible. I never thought this would happen to you.”
I snuggle up against him and am captivated by his warm skin and the regular thump of his heart.
“I’m sorry, Sir. I treated you unfairly.” I have no idea how I wanted him dead a minute ago and want to curl into his arms now, but I do. My anger has simply evaporated.
When he doesn’t respond, I continue, “Talking to you like that wasn’t right. I’m sorry for thinking the worst of you.”
His brow furrows and he looks me square in the eye. I’ve never seen such a serious look on his face. He grabs my shoulders to ensure I get the message that this is perhaps the most important thing he’ll ever say to me.
“The most significant day in a Zinn male’s life is when he’s lucky enough to get the message from the Lottery Commission that he’s won the right to go on his Quest. It’s every male’s dream and we take it seriously.
“I gave endless thought to choosing you, and by the Gods, it was the best decision I ever made. To find a female as intelligent and thoughtful and beautiful as you—it’s the smartest thing I’ve ever done. I gave thought to the house I bought for you to share with me and the furnishings down to sheets with the best thread count.
“I’ve read hundreds of books on how to pleasure your body and how to convince you to choose to stay with me on Zinn.
“What I didn’t do was give enough thought to the toll this would take on you, Victoria. What happened last night? The biggest regret of my life.
“I apologize. Heartily and sincerely. I’d offer to return you to Earth right now, but because you’re medically compromised I can’t. We’ll need our scientific knowledge to treat you if you have a relapse.
“So, zara, I apologize to you.”
The sincere apology in his silver eyes matches what he just said. My chest is clenching from the poignancy of this moment. An apology from Voxx of Zinn? I never expected one, and certainly never believed it could be as heartfelt as the one he just laid at my feet.
“I…” I don’t know what to say.
“You’re hungry. Let me feed you.”
He plumps the pillows behind me and ensconces me on them. After pulling the sheet up and tucking it under my armpits, he returns with a bowl of chernoy. It’s warm and bland and sweet and perfect for a sick girl.
He settles his hip next to me and feeds me spoonfuls of the soupy breakfast concoction. I have no idea how long I slept or what time of day it is. It’s always nighttime in space.
“Here, this won’t hurt.” He injects something into my arm. “It’s a bolus of pain killer and a mild herbal stimulant. It will give you some energy and address your pain. I worry about you.” He smoothes his palm over the injection site to erase the sting of the shot.
“I like it when you take care of me,” I blurt.
“So do I.” His smile is indulgent and his gaze on me is warm and concerned.
“I thought I was supposed to take care of you. As you keep reminding me, I’m the submissive.”
“It’s a Zinn’s responsibility to take care of his female, zara. In all ways. I wasn’t prepared yesterday. For that, I’m sorry.”
Yesterday was awful. It was the worst day of my life. But it made this happen. ‘This’ being Voxx’s nice treatment. I could get used to this.
My anger at him and t
he feeling of betrayal have drained out of me. They’ve been replaced by the need thrumming between my legs. A distant part of my brain marvels at how fast my outrage turned into arousal.
“How often do I need to be inoculated?” I ask without a shred of modesty. My nether regions are already warming to the idea of regular attention by this new Voxx I just met.
“We’ll have to see how often you need it. How did your symptoms begin yesterday?”
Is he the densest male in the galaxy? Is he not picking up on the clues I’m throwing him? That he could inoculate me right this minute? With my blessing?
“I think they came on very suddenly. Right after this hand plucked right here.” I draw him a roadmap by placing his hand on my breast. “Or maybe it was after this hand pressed all the way in here.” I pull his other hand between my legs and try to press a finger or two inside me.
