* *
She was led up a footpath, winding along the side of the deep chasm she had seen when she had left her first dark cell, to a cave entrance lit by torches. She noted that the torches seemed ornamental or decorative; her own quarters were lit by electromagnetic gas lamps.
The guards behind her prodded her gently but unsparingly into the cave. Their hands slipped away just as she adjusted her eyes to the dim interior, but she was aware of their presence, directly behind her, blocking the exit.
Inside the cave area, the interior had been painted a blood-red color and was marked by symbols and paintings that appeared to still be wet and fresh. A shallow pool of water shimmered at her feet. Across from it, a fearsomely large warrior, dressed in similar fur loin coverings, but also an elaborate headdress that gave the indication of greater status than the guards behind her, glared down at her from a large stone chair—a throne, it seemed—that had been carved from the stone of the cave.
Lana’s breath caught in her throat. This particular warrior was more arresting than any other, though it was difficult to say why. He was larger, appeared stronger, but it was not the sheer size of his muscles or the symmetrical perfection of his body that stirred the feeling inside of her. It was something else... perhaps his amber eyes, which seemed large and particularly fixated on her. He had a dark, smooth mouth, and a wild red pattern of coloring that curled around his neck and flicked at his chin, almost like a hand cradling his head, and it flared suddenly, as though an electrical current lived beneath his skin.
The flare of red faded, and the warrior stood looking at her intensely, his chest rising and falling as if he had just been running. Lana met his gaze, finding herself actually unable to take her eyes off of his. Her stomach was cold and writhing inside of her, and her heart was kicking her ribs.
Was this the man she would be mated to?
A flutter traveled through her body, something she had never experienced before.
“I am Zain, leader of thisxalthxta,” the warrior said at last. Lana’s mind swam with the syllables of the final word, uttered in what she guessed was Galleon, unintelligible in the extreme.
Lana was unable to speak, so she forced herself to lower her eyes and give a small bow of her head. She hoped this was a sufficient gesture, but when she looked up and saw the alien glowering at her, she realized he had expected nothing from her.
“The mating ceremony will begin at the time of sunset on the planet Galleon,” he continued.
Lana looked behind her, at the impassive guards who had brought her.
She turned back to the warrior, and at the sight of him another tremor of fear raced through her. “Excuse me,” she squeaked, her voice cracking from the sudden dryness in her throat. “I’m... what is the mating ceremony? What does it consist of?”
“It is for this reason you have been brought to my chambers,” Zain growled, simultaneously waving his hand to the right, a dismissive gesture that sent the guards behind her shuffling outside of the entrance. They blocked it, she noted, with their bulky bodies. Zain rose from his throne and Lana trembled with sexual excitement and sheer fear: he was taller and bulkier than the guards behind her, it seemed almost by twofold.
“You will be taken,” Zain growled, “by all of the unmated warriors in thisxalthxta.The progenitor of your offspring will claim you as his own, and you will be mated.”
Lana stared at him. But how? She wondered. How would this happen... how many warriors were here? How on Vipheon did they know who the ‘progenitor’ of her offspring would be? This was no better than her previous predicament; in fact, it seemed worse. She had at least been promised to one mate, and he was a prince. This made it sound likeanywarrior could mate with her. It was being left up to chance.
The warrior’s red markings flared again, and he stepped around the pool, his eyes on her like a predator on prey. He reached forward and touched her neck, his fingers hot on her skin. A shudder ripped through her body, and she was unsure whether it was pleasure or fear. “You will be,” the warrior announced, “utterly submissive and obedient for the mating ceremony, and favor no one warrior over any other. The process of mating is not left to the determination of mere mortals.”
Lana sucked in a deep breath, realizing suddenly that she had not been breathing. “I don’t,” she whimpered breathlessly. “I don’t think... I can...”
“You will,” he pronounced solemnly. His eyes were fixed on hers, and she felt like he was absorbing her somehow. She felt like she could fall at his knees and submit to him; if she stood there much longer she would do it without even knowing why.
Butallof the warriors? That was something else.
“What if... what if I... refuse?” she asked, her voice an unconvincing whisper.
The alien’s eyes flashed black for a moment, then back to amber. A pulse of bright red traveled along his markings, disappearing beneath the loincloth. Lana desperately wished she could take back her question, even in the brief moment he held her in his gaze without moving.
He moved like lightning to grab her wrist, spin her around, and bring her other wrist to her back, bending her over in a swift, fluid motion that left her tossed over one of his thighs. He had crouched to the ground in a kneel, one leg on the ground, and taken her down with him.
She closed her eyes as the gown slipped up past her hips, and her bottom felt cool in the cave air. She knew what was coming, and her skin tingled as though he had already punished her. She didn’t want him to, and she wished she could take back her insolent question or plead with him, but at the same time she could feel the hot liquid between her thighs, welling up in her pussy, craving the firm hand of this particular warrior.
He delivered a series of sharp slaps, which stung and spread across her skin as a stinging burn, each time hotter and sharper than the previous time. He said nothing until he had slapped her bottom hard five times, and with his hand on her burning skin, igniting her through to her wet pussy, he growled, “Galleon males discipline their mates just as humans do. I am told that you require a firm hand. So if you refuse,” he stroked her burning bottom, “you will be punished.”
“Please, no,” she whispered, but it was too late, he had slapped her bottom even harder than the first series of slaps, and the sting turned to heat, rippled across her flesh, and then... very peculiarly, turned into a pulsing hot wave of...
Pure arousal.
She jerked involuntarily as the wave reached her pussy, and her clit spasmed as though someone had actually flicked it. She gasped.
Another hard spanking, and the same thing happened, but the soreness of her skin was becoming too much to bear, even for the eventual pleasurable payoff. She tensed up as a gust of wind preceded the contact of his hand, and her eyes grew wet as the punishment was rained down on her.
“Stop!” she protested. “Okay, please, stop! I’ll be good, I’ll be—ow!”
