He just gives me a look and falls silent as I sip the drink. It tastes okay, and it does make me feel a little better. I wonder if I can talk my way out of this somehow.
I don’t know how long it is before Sharp comes for me. Maybe it’s an hour. Maybe it’s ten minutes that feel like an hour. What I do know is that when he steps into the galley and picks me up like I weigh nothing to him, I feel the oddest sense of relief at it almost being over, and fear at what is to come.
He carries me out of the galley and to his room, which is a severe space. These aliens don’t have a sense of home, I think. My room is the only one that feels like anywhere or anything.
He sets me down on my feet.
“Are you going to be sick again?”
“Maybe,” I say.
“I guess we will find out,” he says curtly. “You stole our escape pod, triggered a subspace distress signal that alerted not one set of hostile space pirates, but ended up throwing us into a Harvester battle.”
“I know,” I say. “Pretty cool, right?”
That’s the wrong fucking thing to say. There wasn’t really a right thing to say.
His expression darkens, and his features seem to become even more angular with disapproval as he strikes out at me while simultaneously dragging me over to the edge of the bed, where he sits down.
“You are insomuch trouble!” he declares as he puts me over his knee like some juvenile delinquent. My head hangs toward the floor, and my toes don’t touch the floor on the other side.
His palm meets my ass in a hard slap that makes me yowl helplessly. I already told them I hate being spanked. How dare they do this to me! Surely there’s some other kind of discipline. Have they ever heard of time out? Or imprisonment? Or capital punishment?
“It was a mistake!”
“You are full of mistakes and accidents,” Sharp says. “This will teach you to be more careful, won’t it?”
He doesn’t wait for my answer, just whips my ass with his palm so long and so hard I can barely stand it, not that I have a choice. I have to take each and every humiliating, painful, stinging slap because in his eyes, it’s bad to escape, get high, and get in pitched battle. All I was really trying to do was go home, but that’s probably even worse. These aliens are obsessed with me. The idea I might want to just leave is unthinkable to them.
That pleasure–pain thing is happening again, just like it seems to happen every time. The more it hurts, the wetter I get, and the more he spanks, the less stern he gets, until finally I am lying panting over his lap, with a painful, swollen ass and a dripping pussy.
He pushes my legs open and rubs his scaled hand over my sex. “You need to be bred,” he says. “You need to be made to settle down and bear young. You are not a pet who can be kept without a purpose. You cause trouble when you are not busy, and we cannot keep you wrapped around a cock long enough to ensure you do not get into trouble.”
I moan in response. I don’t know what to say, because what he’s saying is so fucking hot, and because my mind is once more being flooded with a whole lot of natural chemicals designed to increase instinctual behavior and suppress rational thought. My mind is a playground for desire, and I am the captive of it.
He rubs the pad of one finger down the length of my soaked slit and pressed the tip of his finger right into my tight, wet pussy.
“No more running from us,” he says. “Every time you go away, something terrible happens to you, and to us.”
He sounds quite sad, and suddenly I feel guilty.
“We missed you so much. We searched for you every day for three years. And the moment we get you back, you escape and lead us into pitched battle.”
“Sounds like you’re better off without me,” I mumble.
He smacks my ass hard, clearly annoyed at me for saying such a thing.
“You just need to behave yourself. You need to submit. If you had not gotten into trouble…”
“But I always get into trouble. You can’t train me. I’m a human. We’re not trainable.”
“Most of you are incredibly trainable,” he says, pushing two fingers inside my pussy and making me forget what I was trying to say. “Most of you are able to be taught not only to enjoy obedience, but to need it. I don’t know what is different inside you, but you are ours and we are not going to let you go.”
I grunt in response. I can’t come up with a whole word, let alone a sentence. He is making me feel so fucking good. He is turning my pussy into his own personal toy.
Every few minutes, he pulls out of me and smacks my ass hard. I can feel the heat and the sting, and I know that it hurts more than I feel it. When I am this wet, being spanked just makes me feel hotter and even more aroused.
“Please,” I whimper.
