Alien Tribute

by Lee Savino

"It's fine, Dawn." My Tribute steps around Tribute Dawn, her eyes on me. The focus of her gaze soothes something inside of me, something that riled when I saw her looking at the other warriors. "I should have realized that I would need to ask my Master for permission to leave the room." There is a small smile on her face, but I do not think she is being insincere.

  "But—" Tribute Dawn begins to protest and my Tribute glances over her shoulder at her.

  "The courtship manuals, remember?" My Tribute says to her. Tribute Dawn sighs and shakes her head. The High Commander is far too lenient with her. I am proud that my Tribute already knows her place better than Tribute Dawn ever has.

  Holding out my hand, I stand stock still as my Tribute comes over to me. When she places her fingers in mine, I am relieved that my armor is mostly retracted. I do not know that I could have hidden the flash of pleasure that surges through me at her touch.

  "Come," I say, pulling her against me. I give Arkdhem a dark look before turning my full attention to my Tribute. "We will go back to my room now."

  "Yes, Master," she says cheerfully.

  The emotion that rises in my chest, warming me throughout, is not entirely welcome.

  10

  Pareena

  With one hand on the back of my neck, Bogdan leads me back to our room. His room? I'm not really sure. He keeps saying 'his' room. Part of me wonders if that's another way to reject my presence in his life. The unwanted Tribute that he was forced to accept... but for someone who doesn't want a Tribute, he's awfully possessive.

  I have to admit, that little show of jealousy in the training arena cheered me right up.

  He must feel something for me, or he wouldn't have cared that Arkdhem was walking around the ship with Dawn and me. Or that I'd been ogling the other warriors in the training arena. Not that he needs to worry on that front. I might enjoy the scenery, but I don't want any of them. No, for some reason I want the grumpy, brooding warrior who supposedly didn't want a Tribute at all.

  "So what now?" I ask, after the silent walk back to his room. I didn't want to ask in the halls, in case I didn't like the answer, but a girl can only take so much quiet.

  "You left the room without permission," he says, his tone dark as he steers me toward the bed. "You've earned a punishment."

  "You didn't tell me I couldn't," I point out, although I know that I probably could have figured out that he'd like a heads up. I've barely known him for twenty-four hours, but I already know that Bogdan might be the biggest control freak I've ever met. Or imagined. Whatever. Like it matters at this point.

  He frowns and I swear I can feel his disappointment. Was he looking for an excuse to spank me? Hmm. Maybe I shouldn't have pointed out the flaw in his logic. According to what Dawn was able to tell me before Arkdhem returned, Tsenturion warriors were big into spankings and then sex. Or at least, her Tsenturion warrior is.

  "You are correct, the fault was mine. From now on, do not leave the room without me or my permission. And you will not speak with other warriors."

  "What if they speak to me first?" I ask. Not that any of them had. They'd all stopped to look at Dawn and me when we'd entered the training arena, and we'd passed quite a few in the hallways who had all bowed their heads to us before looking away, but not one had tried to speak with us. Well, except Arkdhem, but after Bogdan's little speech in the training arena, I got the feeling that he was an exception due to his position as Dawn's bodyguard. Or escort or whatever he was.

  “They should not speak to you. You are mine.” He pulls me to him, pressing my body against his, and I can feel my pulse begin to race again. There is no way I should be horny again already, and yet I am. One hand pets my hair, tugging it slightly so that I turn my head up towards him, while the other strokes the small of my back. “Medik and the High Commander are exceptions.”

  Okay, well that makes sense.

  “What about Arkdhem?”

  His hand fists in my hair, and my eyes widen as he pulls my head back more, baring my throat to him. It is an extremely dominant and seriously sexy move. If I had on panties instead of this stupid training belt, they'd probably hit the floor. What? I like a little bit of caveman in my men apparently. Even if he's not actually a human.

  “What about him?” Bogdan growls the question—and is that my imagination or did I see a flash of red streak through his armor?

  “He seems nice," I say cautiously. I don't want to prod his jealousy needlessly, but I don't want to lie either. "And if he's with Dawn all the time, I'm probably going to see him again. Am I supposed to ignore him? That seems rather rude."

  Bogdan

  Nice? He is a dung-eating slythin, a belly crawling reptile that lived in the wetlands of our home planet. That is perhaps an exaggeration, but in this moment, hearing my Tribute compliment him, that is the first thing that flashes through my mind. He wants my Tribute. I am sure of it. He wanted Tribute Dawn too but would never disrespect the High Commander by overstepping his bounds.

  The way he took my Tribute from my room after I allowed him to accompany Tribute Dawn for a visit, it is clear I will not be afforded that same respect. I trust the other warrior to have my back in battle, but obviously I cannot trust him with my Tribute.

  “Stay away from him.”

  She makes a huffing noise with her breath, putting her hands on her hips as she pulls away from me, as much as she can while her hair is in my grip. Something about the stance seems fairly aggressive and I cannot decide whether to smile at her spirit or punish her for being disrespectful to her Master. Since we are alone and there is no one to see her, I decide not to punish her. But I do not smile either. I don't want to reward bad behavior.

  "He came with Dawn. She said he goes everywhere with her when Gavrill is unavailable. So am I not supposed to see her either?"

  That would be unfair to her, I admit. But he would help himself to my Tribute if he could and that is unacceptable.

  “I will speak to him.” I grind out. My Tribute should not be deprived of another Tribute's company just because Arkdhem does not know how to behave himself. I force myself to loosen my grip on her hair, letting my hand drop. Rather than stepping away, as I assume she would, she leans in toward me.

  “You seem mad,” she murmurs, running a finger down my arm, following one of the red streaks. My body tightens immediately, shifting from frustration and anger to arousal without a single stop in between. The energy I'd hoped to burn off with sparring is back as if it never left.

  “Come. We have been apart for some time. I wish to inspect you.” That is not what I really wish to do, but it is the closest I can come to it. For now.

  “Is it really necessary?” She sighs but complies when I pull her toward the bed and point to the floor where I wish her to stand. She makes no protest when I unhook her gown and let it fall into a filmy pile at her feet. The beauty of her body is now exposed for my pleasure. The training belt slides away from her intimate areas, turning into a belt in truth. She should always be naked in this room.

  When I run my hands up and down her sides, her eyes half close. I stroke her up and down, over and over, tugging her close so I can trace the line of her neck and jaw, even her ears.

  “Mmmm,” she hums when I rub the small flange between my fingers. Her expression is dreamy. I have never been so fascinated with an ear before, but suddenly I must taste it. I tilt her head close and run my tongue along the edge. She shivers when I probe into the delicate channel and catch the soft lobe between my teeth, tasting it. Her legs shift and I draw her back to the bed, sitting down and pulling her into my lap. To my delight she sinks against me, curling up as if I am a particularly comfortable chair. The position puts her most enticing parts within reach.

  Soon. Not yet. I turn her head and nibble at her other ear. She sighs and wriggles on my lap, stimulating my cock delightfully and making my seela strain toward her.

  My arousal is matched by her own. Her nipples are tight beads, her breath coming in pants. I am sure tha
t if I dip my fingers between her legs, they will come away wet with her arousal.

  I dip my head to whisper to her. “Are you primed for me, my Tribute?”

  “Always, Master.” Her mouth is half open. I rub my thumb against the pad of her lip, and she tilts her head, drawing it into her mouth and giving it a good hard suck. My seela almost burst from my armor.

  “I wish to see you climax,” I tell her, and she wriggles again on my lap, setting space between us.

  “I wish to see you climax,” she responds. Her hand reaches between my thighs and strokes the bulge there. The touch is shocking, both because it is unexpected and because no one else has touched me there in so long. The need to be buried inside of her rises up inside of me, pushing at me, but I push back. I am the master of my emotions and actions, just as I am the master of her. I will not be manipulated by either.

  I catch her hand and draw it up behind her back, forcing her breasts up and out. “Do not touch me without permission.”

  “Why?” Her breathy voice teases me. “What will happen?” She writhes in my grip, her intent obviously not to get free but to shake her breasts under my nose. Another attempt at manipulation. I cannot touch her there or she will think she has won. A pity, as I would have enjoyed playing with the soft mounds.

  “I will punish you.”

  She squeals as I tip her over my lap. Yes, this is much more pleasing. I can watch her cheeks grow pink as she shifts on her belly, stimulating my cock, and she will know she is not in charge. I palm her backside, feeling her bottom wriggle as she kicks and squirms, trying to get free.

  “This is what happens to naughty Tributes.” I crack my palm on her bare bottom over and over, enjoying her shrieks. Finding pleasure in the way she writhes against me. Her bottom must be more resilient than Tribute Dawn's, considering the amount of punishment she can take. She’s not distressed by the discipline, although indignant, and when I check her for arousal, she is perfectly primed, dripping wet with sweet passion for me. “What’s this? Do you enjoy your discipline?”

  She moans as I dip my fingers in and lifts her hips, trying to direct my fingers toward her pleasure nub. Of course, I will not allow her such a treat when she is being disciplined.

  “You know I do.” Her voice is sassy, and I immediately move my fingers away from her wetness. My Tribute moans in disappointment and then shrieks as I begin to spank her again, much harder this time.

  SMACK!

  SMACK!

  SMACK!

  “Is that how you address your master?”

  “No! Sorry! Master, please.”

  She shudders and begs when I dip my fingers into her slick channel and gather the juices. I stroke the furrows of her sex, avoiding touching the fleshy protrusion that is the hot button to her pleasure. The manuals spoke of the clitoris as being impossible for most male humans to find but I locate Pareena’s easily every time. Another reason Tsenturions are superior to other males. The ones that do find the clitoris don’t understand the fleshy nub is only a small part of pleasure-receptor filled tissue.

  Not every female will enjoy direct touch on the small, sensitive bud. Pareena seems to prefer indirect stimulus. She jumps when I apply too much pressure, but purrs when I stroke beside it. It is best if I do not get too close right away, but spend time teasing her until she is primed and beyond begging.

  I do this now, alternating with sharp smacks to her bottom. This isn’t a true punishment, only a reminder of who’s in charge. Judging by the way she’s now pushing up to meet my palm, she’s enjoying it more than she lets on. I apply a round of swats to the top and bottom quadrants of each cheek and plunge two fingers into her tight channel. She throws her head back with a throaty moan.

  “Do not climax without permission,” I advise her. “You will not like the consequences.”

  “Will you belt me, Master?” She wriggles her bottom. Cheeky Tribute. I lift her and position her on the bed, her legs hanging over the side and hips propped on a pillow. When I return with the strip of kurdzu hide she calls a belt, I present it to her lips.

  “Kiss it. And when I’m done you will thank me.” I run a hand down her taut back to calm her. She is not afraid, but excited. Her juices are running down her leg.

  “Count,” I order and snap the belt against her warmed backside.

  “One,” she cries, her legs straining for the floor. I steady her with a hand on her lower back and lay careful stripes on her bottom and thighs.

  Pareena

  I might regret this tomorrow...

  The pain is delicious, but deep down I know I am overdoing it. I just don't care. The tears sliding down my face feel freeing. The arousal curling in my core is turning me into a horny, spanking-crazed slut. In the best possible way, of course.

  Every crack of the belt across my ass makes me scream, and yet as soon as the burning sting fades from the initial impact, I crave another. I moan when he pauses, stroking his fingers through my arousal again, circling my clit and teasing me with a touch that is too soft to bring me satisfaction.

  "Please, Master," I beg.

  But his hand lifts again and my head drops down in disappointment.

  Then he slaps my pussy.

  I cry out as the tips of his fingers snap against my clit and the surrounding area, the exquisite agony making my toes curl. He does it again and again, as if he knows exactly what the stinging slaps are doing to me. My orgasm swells, close to bursting, but not quite making it.

  "Please, please, please," I beg, chanting the word over and over again. Then his fingers press down over my mound, rubbing the whole area and my entire body jerks.

  "Come for me, my Tribute."

  The order, his deep growling voice, set me off and I scream with release as he moves his fingers in a circular motion. Ecstasy pounds through my body, taking every ounce of pain and twisting it, turning it into spectacular pleasure.

  My arms collapse, leaving my upper body resting against the bed, quivering from the intense orgasm. Bogdan's fingers make one last swirl around my throbbing clit and then move away. I swear I can feel him staring at my pussy, like he wants nothing more than to thrust inside me, but something is holding him back.

  Should I say something?

  Do something?

  Torn with indecision, I bite down on my lower lip and wait.

  It doesn't matter that I just had an orgasm—I still want him. I almost feel like I need him inside of me, like there's a gaping emptiness that won't go away until he fills me.

  “What do you say?” he asks finally.

  “Thank you, Master.”

  I hold my position. Waiting. Hoping.

  Finally, I turn my head to look at him over my shoulder. I was right. He is staring right at my upturned ass, but he's not moving. The expression on his face is conflicted, but full of desire. Then he notices that I'm looking back at him and his gaze lifts to meet mine.

  “What is it, my Tribute?”

  “Do you want me to really thank you?” Before he can stop me, I flip around, so that I'm kneeling facing him rather than looking away from him. His eyes lock onto my breasts and I put my hands on his thighs. The alien cock that Dawn described is right in front of my face, just his armor between us, and I swear I can see it move. “Let me pleasure you, Master.”

  “No.” He steps back, turning away, and I let my hands drop, trying not to cry as the feeling of rejection wells up inside of me. Turning away, he moves to hang the belt back up on his Wall of Pain.

  What am I doing wrong? Why doesn't he want me? I gather my courage. We can't keep going on like this.

  “Master, I have a question.” I'm pretty sure I see his shoulders tense at the question, but I persevere anyway. “Why haven’t we had sex yet?”

  Rather than answering me, Bogdan turns back around and walks past me, heading for the door while gesturing for me to get into the bed. “You should rest.”

  I scramble up to follow, ignoring his hand gesture. It's not like he gave me an
order or anything. “Did I do something wrong?”

  Black slides up around his body, his armor going back into place as if it can shield him from me. Hurt wells up in my chest. Dammit.

  I catch up to him before he reaches the door to leave our quarters.

  “Where are you going? Master?”

  “You do not have permission to leave the room. I will be back soon.”

  The door opens and he whisks away, leaving me standing there feeling utterly rejected. I dig my nails into the palms of my hands, determined not to cry. Taking a few deep breaths, I push down the ache in my chest.

  Talk about wham, bam, thank you, alien.

  I guess I'm not getting an answer right now. Why doesn't he want to have sex with me? Dawn was surprised by it. We didn't talk about it with Arkdhem there, but maybe I should have... no. That would be a bad idea. Something about Arkdhem definitely rubs him the wrong way. I don't need to put more obstacles between us.

  I'd think that maybe something is wrong with his equipment, but when I touched him earlier, he was hard and there seemed to be extra movement as well. I'm not sure what a cock surrounded by tiny tentacles is supposed to feel like, but it seemed to fit Dawn's description.

  I pivot in a slow circle and go to pick up my gown. I would kill for jeans and a t-shirt right now, but regardless, I'm not just going to stand around here naked. I feel vulnerable enough already. My alien fantasy is starting to feel a lot more complicated than I ever expected. Another point to it being reality? I still can't quite swallow that though.

  I wonder how much time I have before Bogdan returns. I suppose I could just walk out without him, but without Dawn I'll have no idea where I'm going. Plus, I doubt making him angry is going to help. I nibble on my thumbnail, a nervous habit that I've never quite managed to grow out of.

  This isn't at all ethical but... I want to know what's going on and he's not talking. Dawn doesn't know. And this probably isn't even real, right? It's not really snooping if I'm imagining all of this.