Anya

I can wait no longer. I cannot take this. I cannot stay.

I have never been more afraid.

Not of him. Of myself.

I want to think he was lying about the fruit, that it really was an aphrodisiac. But I know it wasn’t. From the moment the warrior Kohn captured me, my body has been on fire for him. I try to suppress it, try to snuff it out with my anger and indignation. But the truth is, my skin tingles for his touch, my pussy is slick and aching and longing to be filled every second he’s in my presence. It’s like my body has divorced itself from my will. It’s like it’s betrayed me, broken faith. I need to leave. I need to get back to Earth. Will distance ease the fever he’s infected me with? It’s my only hope. The longer I stay close to him, the worse it gets.

Will he take me again tonight? I pray he won’t. I pray he will. When he tells me that we will sleep apart tonight ahead of the ceremony, I am both disappointed and relieved. When he directs me to a separate cot of downy blankets and soft furs on the other side of the Flame Stones, I begin plotting my escape.

He lies down, and the tent is soon quiet. I wonder again at his arrogance. Does he really think a few orgasms will keep me here? He must, because from across the glowing rocks, I see his chest rise and fall in deep sleep.

I sit up quietly. I watch him for ten, fifteen, twenty more minutes. He does not move. I stand slowly. I’m clad only in a light blue shift I was given after the shaving ceremony, so I pick up a fur to wrap around myself. The moon is almost over the top of the tent, bathing the interior in light. I pad quietly to the opening of the tent, grabbing a small bag and filling it with some of the fruit still left in the bowl. I slip outside.

I can see the shapes of other tents dotting the landscape. This planet may have seen war, but since the treaty, peace has allowed them to sleep securely. There are no sentries, which is good for me. Beyond the tents, I can see rocks dotting the plains. If I can get to them, I can hide in the small crevices and caves as I make my way north to where I hid the Hoverpod. Once I reach it, I can get to the outpost.

I run, sprinting from tent to tent, ducking behind each one. Sometimes I hear noises from within. A child whimpers in one, from another, a female mumbles in her sleep. In the distance, a creature howls, and I realize I am unarmed. I try to remember what creatures lurk the plains. There are lawkers, but the large predatory birds that walk on two legs have migrated beyond the ridges. There are small, six-legged antelope, and rabbit-like creatures with hunched backs and curved fangs used for digging up roots.

At the edge of the village, I look toward the outcrops. They seem further away than I thought. I’m tired from sprinting, but tell myself that I have no choice. I break from cover and run, but am forced to stop when I come to what looks like a sea of glass shards between the outcrops and the village. I remember then that Kohn had to carry me because of these very rocks, and I want to cry. How can I get to the outcrops from here? I must try. I take a step between two sharp jags, looking for a gap where I can safely step. Perhaps if I pick my way through.

Three more steps, and I’m looking for where I can step next when I feel the wind leave my lungs from the force of two arms squeezing and lifting me from behind. I know those arms already, and I struggle.

“Little mate,” he growls. “A few paces more and you would have been unable to flee should a lawker come by. Two steps, and you’ve had shredded your feet.”

“There are hardly any lawkers left,” I protest, wriggling in his grasp.

“Sometimes rogues cross the plains after,” he says. “It only takes one.”

He turns, carrying me back. “Foolish human. You didn’t even hear me follow you from the tent.”

“You were asleep!” I argue, but realize now that he wasn’t. He gave me a chance to obey. I failed. He doesn’t have to tell me what will happen next. I will be punished. The skin on my bottom tingles. There’s a lingering soreness from the first correction, a child’s punishment. I close my eyes, remembering the helplessness of being over his lap, the burn that sank into the skin of my bottom as he spanked me with his huge, hard hand. I don’t say anything as he carries me back to the tent. I’m too nervous.

When he enters the tent, Kohn leans down, depositing me on the blankets. His huge frame looms between me and the exit. All hope of escape is lost.

“You will not spank me again,” I say. I’m prepared to fight him, even if I know I’ll lose. “I am not a child.”

“No,” he says. “You are not. And although I can punish you as I see fit, I will let you have your way on this.” He eyes me intently. “I’ll give you the punishment you think you deserve, one more suited to a mated female.”

I have no time to consider the implication of his words before he reaches for a peg on a nearby post and removes two strips of what look like rawhide. I try to sprint past him, but he grabs me again and lays me flat onto the furs.

Kohn binds my hands to a post behind my head, then picks up two pieces of wood from a nearby basket. He drives them into the ground like stakes then spreads my legs, binding them to the stakes. I watch with mounting dread as he rolls up a blanket and places it under me, elevating my hips.

I am on my back, helpless, my legs spread, and the gentle expression I noted on Kohn’s handsome face at the spring has been replaced by one of disciplinary resolve. I tug against the restraints. What kind of punishment does he have in store?

He leans down now and withdraws a strap from the basket, along with a small vial. Kohn kneels between my legs.

“What are you doing?” I reflexively try to close my legs, but I can’t. I watch as he pulls the cork from the vial with his teeth before he drizzles a honey-colored liquid over my outer and inner labia. I shudder as he touches a finger to my clit, my labia, my shaven mound. I feel a heat suffuse everywhere he massages the liquid into my exposed flesh. It’s as if my entire pussy is throbbing with intensity, even the soft mound of my outer labia. I want to scream. I can feel myself getting wet, feel the pulsing in my core, feel my nipples get hard. I am seized by the strong desire for his touch. But he doesn’t touch me. Instead, he raises the strap and brings it down between my legs, right on my exposed pussy.

It is not a hard blow. But whatever he’s rubbed into my skin has set the nerves alight, and pain cuts through me like a razor’s edge. I scream, grinding the heels of my bound feet into the rugs as my back arches skyward. The hurt recedes to become a fierce, tingling sting. It’s intense, but in the midst of pain, I feel orgasmic tension begin to wind in my woman’s core.

He hits me again.

It is agony. It is ecstasy. It is torture. Tears course down my cheeks. The tent resounds with my screams. I curl my back forward. My shaved, pale labia are bright pink where he’s struck me. The ridge of a small welt blooms across the outer lips.

“No! No! No!” I cry, my hips bouncing on the rug. The strap lands a third time, this time directly on my clit. The blow is light, but sends a searing jolt through me. I wail in pain, even as an orgasm rocks me. I’m torn. I’m releasing my sexual tension, but the wave of pleasure mingles with an equally powerful wave of pain.

I realize why he said this is a woman’s punishment, because coming itself brings a penalty. The pleasure is intense, but so is the pain, and I would give anything if only he would untie me, put me facedown over his lap, and spank my ass so that I wouldn’t have to stare into his hard, merciless eyes.

He’s witness to the inner battle playing out on my face. I’m moaning, but the moans end in screams of pleasure. Kohn rubs some of the ointment on my nipples. I want him to, but I don’t.

He leans down, and I see the leonine top of his head a split second before he captures a nipple in his mouth. He pinches my clit at the same time. I quake with conflicting sensations. I see stars, and think I’m looking through the roof, but no. My eyes are closed. I’m literally seeing stars.

I feel his lips trail down my belly. No. No. No. He can’t do what he’s about to do. I try to scoot away, but his mouth has closed over my punished labia, his tongue lashing and stabbing my engorged, hypersensitive skin before he suckles on my clit.

I writhe uncontrollably. My pussy contracts and pumps. I cry out with every pass of the tongue that laps it greedily away. My wrists and ankles burn from pulling at the restraints. I am covered in sweat. I feel as though I may explode from this exquisite torture.

I want it to stop.

I want it to go on forever.

He pulls his body up until his face is level with mine. His eyes glitter. He looks feral, terrifying, more beautiful than any god or angel.

“You cannot escape me,” he says. “Even if you fly beyond the stars, you will forever feel the force of our bond.” He strokes the tears from my face, and his eyes are kind again. “Do you not feel it now, Anya?”

He’s right. There’s a pressure inside of me, pulling. I’ve never believed in a soul, but I can feel it now, pushing, pushing against my chest.

“We’re supposed to wait,” he says. “But I cannot. I must show you.”

He rises to kneeling, and undoes the bonds on my feet, leans forward, unties my hands.

Kohn speaks softly to me. “If you stay, I will rule over you. I will protect you. I will die for you if I must. I will take your body again and again and again. I will breed children on you, strong sons and beautiful pale daughters.” He pauses. “I had to punish you, to show you what to expect. But there’s more. Open your legs.”

I part them, mesmerized by his words. Even though my pussy is still tender from his punishment, the ache of emptiness is worse. My hips rise to meet him when he pushes into me, and I feel my life force, my soul, expand from my body. I see it—a visible glow. One emerges from his as well. They combine and swirl around as our bodies, moving as one. There is no pain now. There is only pleasure, deeper than I’ve ever known. My arms and legs go around him. I don’t understand this. I don’t understand how my prejudices about the Ythilians could have led me to this moment, to this revelation. I only know what I feel is magical, unexplainable, and very, very real.

When we come, we come together. The glowing field of our combined souls pulses and glows. His cock is impossibly deep inside me, making me feel complete, whole. My shuddering cry joins his low moan as our orgasms peak and subside. Kohn sinks down beside me, draws me into the safety of his arms.

Only then do we sleep.