By the end of the planet rotation, Elyce would be free or she’d be dead. Either way, her torment would finally end.
She gritted her teeth, bracing for the bite of the whip. The strips of leather snapped across her back. Pain flowed over her torn flesh, flashes of heat burning her to the core.
The agony wasn’t as extreme as it had been during previous beatings. Marowit, her kidnapper, her keeper, her master, was close to apprehending the female he hunted, the female he’d taken Elyce to replace temporarily, and he was in a good mood. The leather broke skin but the weight of each blow didn’t flatten her against the sand.
They had an audience for the beating; Marowit rarely worked alone. His henchmen surrounded them, leering at Elyce’s exposed breasts and ass, her body naked except for the heavy collar around her neck and the equally unwieldy restraints circling her wrists and ankles.
When she had first been captured, her nudity had bothered her. Knowing that, Marowit had paraded her through settlements, allowing beings to look at her. He had given her no privacy, that humiliation another form of torture.
One hundred and ninety-three planet rotations of captivity later, she was accustomed to being bare, being gawked at. She could no longer remember the feel of fabric against her skin.
Or a time when she didn’t hurt all over.
The whip whistled through the air, cracking upon her back. Elyce’s spine bowed, the pain intensifying. The males cheered their sadistic leader, relishing his rough treatment of his slave.
Marowit controlled access to her. Use of her body, to abuse as they desired, was a reward for his followers. If they didn’t earn that right, they couldn’t touch her. They had to watch as others brutalized her.
There were rules. They couldn’t damage her face. Her beauty was a source of pride for Marowit. They also couldn’t kill her. He wanted her alive to torture.
Those restrictions would vanish when Marowit apprehended his true prize. His new plaything would have his full attention. Elyce would be given to the other males.
She wouldn’t survive that experience. Carinae E, the planet they were currently on, was savage, uncivilized, sparsely populated by harsh beings who followed their own rules and kept their gazes on their own situations. No one would intervene when the males ravaged her. She would die.
Elyce preferred to die free.
The whistling of the whip stopped. Blood streamed down her sides, dripped on the white sand. Her entire back burned.
“Th-th-thank you, Master.” She gave Marowit the words he wanted to hear. To disrespect him or resist meant a prolonged beating. She’d learned that during her endless enslavement.
“You liked that, didn’t you, Paloma?” Marowit gripped her chin hard, forcing her to raise it. He was a handsome male, the type of male young females dreamed of, his features fine and boyish, his brown hair sporting streaks of blond. Only the hardness in his eyes hinted at his lack of soul. “You’re such an eager little pain slut.”
Paloma was her name, the name of the female who’d thwarted him. “Yes, Master.” Elyce lied. Pain might turn the other female on but it gave her no pleasure.
Although she suspected Paloma was as much a victim of Marowit’s twisted mind as she was, Elyce had grown to hate her. She’d been taken because she resembled the female, having the same blue eyes, blonde hair, curvy build. Marowit couldn’t have the being he wanted and had snatched Elyce off the pathway as a substitute.
Paloma was partially responsible for her agony.
“Has she been fed?” Marowit’s second-in-command cupped his cock through his dirty ass coverings. She had privately named him Greasy. Every time he used her, he left a slickness on her skin and a stain on her battered soul.
“She sucked me off.” Marowit squeezed her chin and then released her. “She’ll be hungry again for cock after we return.” He grasped his guns. They were hunting this planet rotation, should be gone until sunset. “First kill gets to use her second.”
Marowit always used her first.
“Any hole?” Greasy asked, his eyes lit with a fervorous fire.
“Any hole.” Marowit’s head dipped.
Greasy would fight for that first kill. The male liked to use her ass when it was dry, inflicting the most pain possible on her.
“Who is guarding her?” One of the other males nudged her with his boot. “She might try to escape again.”
She’d tried three times, been caught three times, was punished severely for those attempts.
“She’s shackled.” Marowit yanked on the chain attached to her right ankle. The metal cut through her skin and Elyce pressed her lips together, the pain intense. “And this is Carinae E. There’s sand to the right.” He looked in that direction. “And sand to the left.” He turned his head. “If she manages to escape, she’s dead. The sun will bake her.”
“Someone could find her.” Greasy wanted to be the one to kill her. He’d told her that. Multiple times.
“Then she’d wish she was dead.” Marowit’s laughter held no humor. “There are beings on Carinae E that make you look like a soft-hearted female.” He jerked the chain again. “She’s stupid but not that stupid. She won’t try to escape again, will you, Paloma?”
My name is Elyce. She suppressed her scream. “I w-w-won’t escape, Master.”
That was another lie. The beings on Carinae E didn’t scare her. They couldn’t hurt her more than Marowit did.
She planned to escape as soon as the males left for the hunt.
“Be a good girl and we’ll reward you.” Marowit’s smile communicated she wouldn’t like that reward. “All of us will.”
The males laughed as they swaggered away from her. She watched them, her blank expression hiding the hatred blazing in her heart. If she could, she would kill them, every last male.
But they never discarded anything that could be used as a weapon within her reach, not anymore, not since she’d stabbed one of Marowit’s henchmen that first time.
She had been beaten to the point of death for that small act of rebellion. Her lips curled upward. But it had been worth it. She would do it again, with no hesitation.
A ship’s engine hummed loudly and then faded behind her, leaving a silence screaming with opportunity. Her fingers twitched. The possibility of freedom was within her grasp.
Elyce, having been tricked in the past, ignored the impulse to escape immediately. She crawled to the shaded spot, a huge boulder blocking the sun’s hot rays, and she drank the beverage left for her.
Not knowing if the males were spying on her, she consumed it like Marowit would desire, on her hands and knees, lapping the precious liquid up as though she were one of the wild creatures they were hunting.
The blood on her back dried. None of the males returned to the site.
She gazed at the sand dunes stretching endlessly before her. Marowit was right. She would likely die upon escaping.
But that fate also faced her if she stayed, and at least she’d be free.
Contrary to her abductor’s opinion of her, she wasn’t stupid. She had been plotting her flight to freedom since they arrived on Carinae E, studying the males, the terrain, trying to increase her chances of survival.
She wiggled her bound ankle. When Marowit had first placed the restraints on her, they had been almost unbearably tight. But depriving her of nourishment had been another torture tactic of his. The restraints were now loose.
Her wounds reopened, the blood lubricating her skin. With some effort, she pulled her ankle out of the unyielding circle of metal.
She was free. Exhilaration filled her.
She pushed herself to her feet. Her legs wobbled but held. She hobbled over to Marowit’s makeshift domicile. It consisted of fabric draped over a triangular metal shell.
There was other cloth she could utilize, but her vengeful heart wanted to destroy the place he had claimed as his. She ripped the fabric into four pieces, shredded one of those pieces into strips, using those bindings to fasten a square to each of her feet. The fourth piece would be her head covering.
Next, she sourced water. She poured the precious liquid over the fabric, the warm fluid streaming between her breasts, along her battered back, her wounds stinging with the contact. The moisture would evaporate quickly but it might give her a couple more moments of survival.
Elyce then gathered two containers, filled them with water, strapped them to her body. She ignored the weapons. The beverage was all she could carry, and it would be the difference between living and dying.
She took one last look around the camp, the site of so much pain, and she headed in the direction of rising sun. Her cloth-covered feet sank into the sand dunes. The wind whipped the granules against her skin. The sun’s rays blazed down on her head and shoulders.
Her destination was the Refuge, a settlement Marowit regularly monitored. Paloma, his obsession, resided safely within its walls, the female protected by Kralj, its Ruler.
According to the mumblings of the henchmen, Kralj had barred Marowit from the Refuge, wouldn’t allow him to step a foot past the border he had erected.
Denied his prey, Marowit had vented his anger upon Elyce, his use of her brutal, his words bitter. Kralj was a monster, her abductor had ranted as he ravaged her, an unnatural creature capable of controlling other beings’ minds and actions.
That monster might protect her. Once she reached the border around the Refuge, she should be free. Marowit and his males wouldn’t be able to retrieve her.
She’d then trade the only asset she had, her body, for transport off Carinae E, leaving the planet and Marowit far behind her. Her plan past that point became fuzzy, her options limited.
When she had trekked to her role as a nourishment manufacturer that fateful sunrise, her potential had been infinite. Young, intelligent, full of hope, she hadn’t wished for much—a peaceful future, having a domicile, a male to love, offspring to care for. That was all she wanted, simple things many beings would take for granted.
She’d then passed a darkened pathway. A male’s hand had covered her mouth, an arm had strapped around her neck, and she’d been pulled into Marowit’s nightmare world of violence and abuse.
He and his males had stolen any possibility of Elyce having a normal lifespan. No one would want a female who had been used like she had. Even if a male looked past her history, she doubted she would ever trust him or any other being again. She’d endured too much, seen too much cruelty.
All she sought now was a safe place to live, somewhere with no males, no pain.
And an abundance of water. She ignored her dry mouth, resisting the urge to drink. The beverage had to be rationed if she was to survive.
She would live. Marowit and his males wouldn’t win. She wouldn’t die in this damn wasteland. Elyce stuck out her chin and propelled herself forward.
* * *
Moments passed. Elyce didn’t know how many moments. The sun was now behind her, low in the sky. Welts raised on her skin, her blocker no match for Carinae E’s hot, arid climate. Her face had swollen until she could barely see. Her containers, drained of water, had been discarded. She’d lost both of her makeshift boots in sand dunes. Her muscles screamed in protest as she moved.
Still, she continued, intent on reaching shelter, safety, freedom.
Sand-infused wind created an indomitable wall before her, stretching high, high above her head. Elyce hadn’t the energy left to climb it or to go around it. She walked doggedly into it.
As she stepped forward, the wall dropped, the winds dissipating. It must have been an illusion. Her lips twitched. It wasn’t the first one of the journey. She thought she’d seen a winged male a couple of sand dunes prior.
And it wouldn’t be the last illusion. She felt a prodding sensation in her previously numb brain.
Paloma, a deep voice murmured inside her head.
That’s not my name, Elyce silently screamed. Would she be haunted until she died by thoughts of that female?
I know that. The male’s tone was insufferably arrogant. I know everything.
Must be nice for you. She wished the voice would go away, allow her to battle the increasingly insurmountable sand dunes in peace.
Respect me. Wind blasted against her battered back. Grit scraped along her wounds, that pain adding to her agony.
Her feet felt as though they were on fire. Her mouth was so parched she couldn’t swallow. Her head spun.
Fuck the voice. She had no respect left for anyone.
Your connection is more than Paloma.
Stars. He was back to that topic again. She would be never free of her counterpart. Even her hallucination was fascinated with that female.
A dizzying array of images and voices flashed through Elyce’s mind.
“It’s not fair.” A blonde blue-eyed girl pouted.
A brunette female lifted her chin. “She knows nothing.”
“I’ve been flying farther and farther afield.” A male with wings looked at a horizon.
A green-skinned bald male filled her internal view. “Especially as I’ll have this with me.”
“You told me not to follow you.” A long-haired barbarian boy hung his head.
Elyce’s thoughts returned to the green-skinned male. He was huge, solid, a giant of a being. His face wasn’t handsome, but it was…comforting, like a long-lost memory, before her world went to shit.
MOD followed by some numbers was inked on one of his broad cheeks. His eyebrows were as thick as the rest of him and there was a kindness in his green eyes. Gazing at him gave her joy.
His voice excited her. It was as deep, as large as his form, his words flowing down her spine, coiling in her womb. If she could, she would follow his dark tones anywhere.
Ahhh… The other voice seemed pleased. Balvan.
Balvan. Was that the green-skinned male’s name? It suited him, was as substantial as his appearance.
She tripped over nothing and fell. The sand shredded her bare knees. She winced, pushed herself upright, forced herself to take another step and another and another.
Although he appeared substantial, Balvan, her impossibly large green-skinned giant, was a figment of her imagination. She knew that, was glad for it.
Because if he truly existed, he’d remain out of her reach and that would hurt her more acutely than any torture Marowit had ever devised.
No one could care for a female such as herself. Elyce breathed in, smelled her abductor and the other males on her skin.
She would die with their putrid scents clinging to her. The stink was a constant reminder of what had been done to her and what she’d done, the shameful acts she’d undertaken to survive, the parts of her soul she’d lost to secure another planet rotation of living.
She continued her endless walk, seeing nothing before her except sand. Hopelessness swept over her, a crushing sense of doom, of failure. She would die on this damn planet, alone, thirsty.
So very thirsty.
Another image of Balvan filled her brain. The male held a small fluffy white creature, a puffker, she believed it was called. He cradled it in his big palms, his touch gentle, his eyes soft with caring. The creature happily snuggled against him.
The scene contained no whips, no pain, no fear. It was peaceful, kind, normal, and it felt unreal to her.
Because it wasn’t real. It was a lie, a fantasy her dehydrated mind had crafted. Males like him didn’t exist.
Not for her. Not any longer.
Elyce’s legs buckled under her, her knees hitting the sand. The impact jarred her, splitting her bottom lip open. She fell forward, onto her arms. Heat, pain, exhaustion flooded her form.
She crawled, dragging herself toward a sanctuary she couldn’t see. The skin on her fingertips shredded. Her fingernails had already been removed, punishment for accidentally scratching her abductor.
Sand abraded every part of her. Elyce barely noticed the stinging pain. She had to keep moving. That was critical. She no longer knew why, only that it was necessary.
You’re stubborn. The voice was back. He will have his hands full with you.
Fuck off. No one would have his hands full with her. She was free, would stay that way until she died.
No male would control her ever again.
She pulled herself forward until her arms finally stopped working. Blowing out her breath, she rested her cheek on the hot sand. She had nothing left.
The sun’s rays scorched her back. Granules dangled on the tips of her eyelashes, breaking the light into an array of colors. Everything was out of focus.
A weariness unlike anything she’d ever known settled upon her. She’d been fighting for so long, battling to remain alive, to survive every torment inflicted upon her, knowing one wrong word, one mistake would mean the end of her lifespan.
Giving up wasn’t an option, not after she’d traveled so far, was so close to freedom. She would resume her trek toward the Refuge.
But first, she’d rest. Only for a moment, not longer.
She closed her eyes. The darkness hovering over her descended.
The last face she pictured belonged to the green giant. The caring in his eyes soothed her, gave her hope there was some good left in the universe, something worth living for.
She clung to his image until it faded, and then Elyce slipped into the unrelenting black void.