She’s mine to train, and I will mate with her when Zethki asks me to. But this is not a task that I can perform as a soldier, without feeling. I cannot stop thinking about her, her lips, her eyes, her defiant chin. The taste of her nipples, the smell of her pussy. I want to be inside of her, I want to take her in every way I can think of.
Deep inside of me is another feeling, a forbidden one. The feeling of ownership, of possession.
I want her for myself.
CHAPTER12
Anya
He is always the same when he comes for me: stoic, imposing, towering over me with his height and size. But I’m not the same. I wonder if he knows this, when he comes for me today and I stand, ready to leave with him. I haven’t given in to him, but I’m less sure that my resolve will last with each passing day.
I don’t fear him; he never hurts me except to discipline me. He tortures me with pleasure, with a refusal to let me have the release that I crave. My first days in his dungeon are a blur, a feverish dream.
We walk to the dungeon in silence. It’s a long walk. He has placed a training implement in my ass, each day increasing the size, each day subjecting me to a humiliating enema, then inserting a larger implement with a jeweled knob at the end. As I walk, the object presses inside of me, stimulating me in ways that are both humiliating and intensely erotic. I tell myself to hate it, to hate him, but when the door to my room opens and I see him, my body reacts with arousal and need. My chest gets tight, my heart races, and butterflies erupt in my stomach.
In my room, in the semi-darkness of night—almost always bright, because full moons on this moon are full planets, and the planet we orbit is a blue gas giant, always glowing somewhere in the sky serenely—all I can think of as I lie there ishim.
But giving in to Rysethk would mean that I lose him. If I surrender to his training, if I beg him to release me from his torturous pleasure, if I obey him as my body wants to—then I will be declared ‘trained,’ and I will be married to Zethki and bred. And so I continue to resist, trapped in this endless cycle of desire that I cannot give in to.
“Good morning,” I tell him cheerfully, when he arrives. I don’t know how long I have been here. The days are different; the time that passes is measured by travels around a planet and not a sun. Maybe weeks, in Earth time.
He says nothing. My cheerfulness is my defiance, and he seems unaffected by it. He gestures for me to enter the corridor and begin our lengthy walk. I know how to maneuver these corridors by heart now. I spend my time mapping what I see, cataloging the possible escape routes. I’m allowed to use the pool and take walks in a large garden with Trasmea by my side. During these excursions, and at night when we are alone, I get information from Trasmea, disguising my intentions as mere interest in the land and the people. I have learned that there is an ocean nearby, I have seen over the garden wall. I have learned that there are cities along the coast, that they can be reached by foot in several days. I have even learned which plants I can eat, and I learn more every day by asking Trasmea questions, explaining that I’m a biologist, pretending to have given up hope of ever leaving.
Rysethk is somber today. He’s always somber, but he seems more so than usual. Maybe it seems crazy, but I can feel like his mood transfers to me through the air. It makes my skin tingle when he walks behind me, and that tingle always has the flavor of his sentiments. Maybe it’s all bullshit—in fact, it almost certainly is—but today he feels different. More serious, almost distracted.
When we step into his dungeon, I slip the robe from my shoulders without being asked. I do this to show him that I’m not afraid of him, not about to be broken. I don’t admit to myself that this is an easy gesture, because I have begun to crave his possession of my body, his control over me.
The robe falls to the floor and I step out of the pile to climb onto the table. Our sessions always begin like this, with me on all fours. He straps me to the table, and places a collar around my neck that he tugs when I fail to maintain the position he wants me in.
He begins by putting his fingers on the jeweled knob of the implement in my ass, pushing on it, slowly tipping it down, then up, then side to side. An ache builds inside of me, and my pussy never fails to well up with excitement. He twists it, awakening the insides of my most intimate places, reminding my flesh of the contours of the implement, of the raw desire that had almost dulled overnight. He fucks me slowly with it, and I get wetter. I no longer try to fight this, there isn’t any point.
Then, slowly, he removes the implement. An agony grips me when it leaves my ass, the emptiness that replaces its shape is all-encompassing. He then gives me an enema, filling me again, satisfying my desires for a few minutes. And then he takes it all away from me again, emptying me, and our day of pleasurable torture begins, as I’m trained to please Kerz males.
Today, he lingers on the implement, slowly moving it in and out of my ass, until I mewl and my hips begin to move. I’m not even aware that I’m doing this until he places a hand on my lower back. “Be still,” he growls.
I obey, like a reflex. Iwantto obey him, and my body follows his commands before my brain has time to realize that I want to resist. His hand is firm on my lower back but he cannot stop the motion of my body that way. He fucks me with the implement a few times before I begin to resist him again, mewling, sweat gathering at my temples. I wish that he would lose control and fuck me, that I could feel his cock inside of me, his body against mine.
He swats my right buttock—hard.The sting of it is sharp and I suck in my breath, enjoying the wave of heat that spreads over my skin. It only makes me less able to control myself, and I move my hips again, pushing backward to drive the implement deeper into my ass. When I buck against his hand and the resistance pushes against my anus, I howl in pleasure.
He slaps my ass again, this time more firmly.
“Oh!” I yelp, but I can hear in my own voice what he must surely hear, too: I like to be spanked. It only makes me hotter, I only crave it. When he spanks me roughly, until my skin is burning and itchy, and then rubs the heat into my body with his hands, my pussy pours juices down my thighs. He knows this… how could he not?
“I have commanded you to be still,” he growls, spanking me again, three sharp swats in rapid succession. They only make me squirm more. But he doesn’t stop me, not really; his fingers drop to the knob and curl beneath it, and without his claws extended, his fingertips brush against my clit as I rock my hips and begin to fuck the implement myself. Because of where his fingers are, he’s stimulating me, and I’m getting closer and closer to an orgasm. I can’t stop now; I have been craving to come at his touch for weeks now.
He continues to spank me, but the spanking only drives me wilder. My skin is on fire, and every slap stings more than the one before, sending waves of sharp, burning pain over my ass, rolling waves of heat reaching all the way up my back and down my thighs. I continue to disobey him, fucking the implement. He holds it so that I can, and doesn’t stop me.
“Oh,” I whisper, feeling an orgasm shuddering to life deep in my abdomen. My eyes are wet with tears, and this only makes me add to them. “I’m so close,” I hear myself saying. “Please, don’t stop me, don’t stop…”
I’m begging. I realize it, and I wish I could stop myself or take it back. But I keep bucking, and his fingers slip over my engorged clit and my ass squeezes tight on the implement, all while he delivers smack after smack on my fiery skin.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper, fucking the implement harder.
I’m so close.
He is not stopping me.
And then suddenly he grunts, and his hand lands on my ass and stays there. His claws extend, and I feel them against my skin. He squeezes my flesh, and pulls the implement out with one swift motion. “No!” I say, panicked, as my orgasm stalls, painfully, deep between my legs. I wriggle, but he places another hand on my hip and holds me in place.
