Chapter Four
“You actually got to fly with him?” Jasmine’s dark eyes were wide as saucers. “I’d heard he had wings, but… What do they look like? Do they have feathers?” The absurdity of Jasmine’s question made everyone laugh.
LeAuntiez had escorted Kyla to the ramshackle lounge several hours ago. This was where the human females spent most of their time at Protectorate Headquarters. With nothing to occupy themselves but electronic books, playing cards, and the Ventori equivalent of video games, the days were long and boring. Still, anything was better than staring at the walls in their tiny bedrooms.
They’d just been served lunch when Kyla arrived so the conversation remained light and casual for quite some time. Then the distractions dwindled and the barrage of questions began. She’d done her best to summarize what had happened the night before rather than reliving every detail, but the other three females weren’t cooperating. At least they’d fixated on LeAuntiez’s heroic rescue rather than the attack.
“Yes, he has wings, but they do not have feathers. They’re… really hard to explain.”
“Wait.” Jasmine held up her hand. “I have a better question. How does he get rid of the wings when he’s not flying? Their uniforms are skin tight—thank you, Lord—and I’ve never seen wings sticking out of his back.”
“How would you know? You’re always staring at his ass.” Olivia gave Jasmine a playful shove. They were roommates, had paired up from day one and their closeness was obvious.
Sort of like Erin and her, Kyla thought with a sigh. LeAuntiez had contacted Urrya again this morning, but there was still no sign of Erin or the skimmer. Was it possible she’d made it across the wasteland and was safely on her way to Waco? She didn’t think the skimmers had that sort of range, but maybe she was wrong. God, she hoped it was something like that.
Jasmine and Olivia sat side by side on a vinyl couch that looked like it had been around since the seventies. Kyla sat in a similar chair facing them, while Star, who had been working on a jigsaw puzzle, sat alone at one of the folding tables. Typical. The snooty stripper spent a lot of time alone now that her roommate, an even more disagreeable hothead named Tracy, had been claimed.
“Forget LeAuntiez. He’s too high and mighty. I’ll take the dark, mysterious one.” Star scooted her chair around so she could join the conversation. She dismissed Jasmine’s interest with a wave of her hand. “Uriel or Orion. I think they’re brothers or something.”
“His name is Urrya and they’re half-brothers. Same mother, different fathers,” Jasmine proudly clarified. “LeAuntiez is full-blooded Celestian, while Urrya is half Celestian and half Ventori.”
“Wow, aren’t you a fount of useless information,” Star sneered.
“I don’t think it’s useless,” Kyla insisted then focused on Jasmine, pretending Star wasn’t there. “What else do you know about LeAuntiez? And Chancellor Savator? Tell me everything.”
“LeAuntiez isn’t just full-blooded Celestian, which is incredibly rare all by itself. His mother was cousin to the Celestian high king. There were a few people in front of LeAuntiez, but he was in line for the Celestian throne.”
Kyla sighed. As if living in Erin’s shadow hadn’t been demoralizing enough. She had to go and fall for Celestian royalty?
“A pedigree don’t mean nothing when your planet is a burned-out ruin,” Star muttered. “LeAuntiez is a mercenary now, just like all the others.”
Kyla ignored Star’s snarky comments. “Was he married when the Skarilians attacked? Did he have a family? I know he’s a lot older than he looks.”
“No wife or children, but he lost two brothers, his mother and stepfather.” Jasmine shrugged and then concluded, “That’s all I’ve been able to flirt out of the guards.”
“‘Flirt.’ Is that what we’re calling it now?” Star tried again to insinuate herself into the conversation, but no one paid her the least bit of attention.
“What about the chancellor?” Olivia asked, taking the words right out of Kyla’s mouth.
“Now his story is really sad,” Jasmine warned. “No wonder he frowns so much of the time.”
“I can imagine,” Kyla tried to back her off. “You don’t need to list all the people the Skarilians killed. I know Ventor was decimated.”
“His family wasn’t killed by the Skarilians,” Jasmine countered. “They were slaughtered by renegade Ventori who used the Skarilian invasion as an excuse to pillage, murder, and rape. You know the type. The cowardly thugs who use any excuse to throw rocks through windows and steal TVs, then try to pass it off as some political protest. I think it would have been easier on the chancellor if the Skarilians had done the killing.”
Unable to suppress her curiosity now that the door was open to Bron’s past, Kyla asked, “Who did he lose?”
“Everyone.” For a moment Kyla thought that was all she’d say, then Jasmine’s list began and Kyla desperately wanted her to stop. “He lost his parents, three sisters, his wife, and two children. Not to mention all sorts of extended family members. The renegades slaughtered his entire village. The only ones left alive were those males who had joined the military. It happened several weeks before the final Skarilian attack.”
“And who’d you blow for that little tidbit?” Star sneered. “You’re depressing as hell.”
“What is wrong with you?” Jasmine shook her head, but looked hurt, not angry. “You’ve been a world-class bitch all day.”
“How did you notice?” Kyla whispered under her breath. Star glared at her, so she must have heard.
“Dr. Baytor said her latest test results preclude her from the next phase of testing,” Olivia told Kyla in a stage whisper. “Star is heading to Camp Accord and she’s not happy about it.”
Star shot to her feet, oversized boobs jiggling like runaway Jell-O. “I told you that in confidence. I can’t believe you just blurted it out.”
“What’s Baytor doing to you guys anyway?” Kyla wanted to know. “I thought all the tests were to figure out what Zapt and Nunez had done at the induction center.”
“It’s more complicated than that.” Star’s chin lifted, making her look particularly haughty. “There is some sort of marker in our blood and only our blood. Dr. Baytor wants to figure out how it got there.”
Olivia rolled her eyes. “She makes it sound like we won the lottery. For all we know it could cut our lifespan in half or make us give birth to two-headed babies. Dr. Baytor wants to make damn sure it’s not dangerous before he sets us loose at Camp Accord.”
Olivia was sweet, always positive and supportive. Jasmine could be moody, but rooming with Olivia helped keep her from sulking too often. Star, on the other hand, was just plain bitchy. She strutted around with her augmented boobs thrust out and intentionally drew the attention of the males as often as she could. She was superficial and often mean. Kyla tried to avoid her as much as possible, but that was hard now that there were so few females left at Protectorate Headquarters.
“Didn’t Erin tell you about the anomaly?” The gleam in Star’s eyes warned Kyla that she wasn’t going to like where this was leading. “She has an even stranger one than ours.”
Was the bitch just rattling her cage, or was Erin really affected too? “What are you talking about?”
“She’s right.” Olivia sounded apologetic. “They did something to Erin, just like us.”
“I wonder why she didn’t tell you. Maybe you’re not as close to her as you thought.”
“Cut it out,” Jasmine snapped. “You’re jealous of her and we all know it.”
“It’s not surprising that they didn’t pick you for the advance testing,” Star tried again. “You’re clearly inferior to the rest of us.”
Refusing to be baited by her illogical bitterness, Kyla turned her back on Star and smiled at Jasmine and Olivia. “Did anything interesting happen while I was gone?”
“Since you brought it up, where did you spend last night?” Jasmine raised her brows in playful challenge, daring Kyla to admit the truth. “I wouldn’t mind going for a ride with—or on—LeAuntiez, but Chancellor Savator scares the crap out of me.”
“Why do you presume I was with them?” Kyla felt her face flush and cursed her fair complexion. “Maybe I spent the night in the clinic.”
“And maybe you spent the night on your knees.” Star’s tone was anything but playful. She stalked toward Kyla, gaze narrowed and gleaming with hostility. “Tell us all about it, little miss holier-than-thou. How many different ways did they fuck you?”
It probably would have been wiser to ignore her completely, but Kyla’s emotions were too volatile. She’d barely escaped a violent crime and her best friend was still missing. This was really not the day to give her shit. “Sorry to disappoint you but—”
“Did you take it up the ass?” Star leaned down and brought her face within inches of Kyla’s. “Did you swallow their cum? Do you even know how to deep throat a cock without throwing up?”
“We all know you could teach her,” Olivia said, her voice uncharacteristically cold. “How much cum have you swallowed in the last three years?”
Star ignored her, staying focused on Kyla with bitter hatred.
“Back off,” Kyla spoke quietly, but her temper was building like a storm on the horizon. “Jasmine’s right, you’re jealous.”
“Of you?” Star scoffed, then swept her gaze down Kyla’s body. “You’d have to lose fifty pounds to fit into any of my costumes.”
Kyla had always struggled with her weight, so the insult stung. It had taken her years of frustration and self-loathing to find a healthy, if curvy, middle ground. She would not give this bitch the satisfaction of a reaction. “Is that the best you can do?”
Without warning, Star slapped her hard across the face. “Fat whore!”
Shocked beyond reason, Kyla just stared at her for half a second. Then all her frustration, all her fear and helplessness surged to the surface and Kyla saw red.
She shoved Star back as she came up out of the chair, then swung hard with her right arm. She’d instinctively fisted her hands and caught Star squarely in the jaw. The stripper’s head jerked to the side as a startled cry erupted from her gaping mouth. Kyla swung her left arm and snapped Star’s head back around.
Star stumbled back, clearly dazed, but Kyla was beyond caution, beyond compassion or mercy. She shoved Star to the floor and followed her down, straddling her too-thin body. Kyla aimed for her nose and blood gushed, quickly covering the lower half of her face. Ignoring the pain in her hands and Star’s terrified screams, Kyla punched and punched, blinded by anger and tears.
Suddenly hands caught her arms and she was dragged off her senseless victim. She kicked out and twisted violently, desperate to escape their restraining hold. She snarled and fought, until someone shouted her name.
“Kyla! Enough!”
Bron’s deep voice penetrated her rage and she sagged between the guards who held her arms. Guards? When had the guards arrived?
Bron closed the distance between them and pulled her into his arms. “Take Star to the clinic and give us the room.”
“Yes, sir,” the guards chorused and immediately obeyed.
“Star started it,” Jasmine stressed as she departed. “This was not Kyla’s fault.”
Pleased by the support, Kyla eased away and rested her hands on Bron’s wide chest. “I didn’t mean to hurt her that badly. I just snapped.”
He wiped her tears away, then looked at her hands. Her knuckles were already bruised and starting to swell. “These are going to hurt like hells unless they’re treated.” He looked beyond her as he said, “Savator to Baytor—”
“Please don’t. I need to feel the pain.” A fresh swell of emotion filled her eyes with tears, but she was able to blink them away.
“Cancel that, Baytor. False alarm.” He raised her hands to his mouth and kissed each knuckle in turn. His lips were soft, his breath warm, but already her hands were starting to throb. “We have spar-bots in the fitness center for this sort of thing.”
“That was so wrong.” She shook her head, horrified by her own behavior. “She screamed and screamed and I just kept hitting her.” A violent shudder ended in a sob and her lips began to tremble. “I was as bad as they were. I should have stopped. Why didn’t I stop?” The tears escaped out the corners of her eyes, but the pressure in her chest was worse.
He pushed one of his hands into her hair, his thumb stroking over her cheek. “You’ve been through one hells of an ordeal. Can you talk about it?”
She stepped closer and lowered her head, unable to take the intensity of his gaze.
He moved his hand to the nape of her neck and gently massaged as he silently waited for her to answer.
The simple contact of his touch soothed her, helped her relax enough to take a deep breath. And then his scent filled her head and all she could think about was him. “You know what happened.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Tell me anyway.”
Why did people always think talking about horrible things made them better? Maybe reviewing the subject just reinforced the trauma. She didn’t want to talk about it. Didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to admit that it was all her fault.
“Talk to me. That’s an order.”
She sighed. Maybe she should just let him spank her. She wasn’t brave enough for that, so she said, “I acted like a fool and very nearly paid the price for my—”
He placed his fingers against her lips, then tilted her head back until their gazes locked again. “Unacceptable. What happened with those guards was not your fault.”
She turned her head, dislodging his hand. “And today? Are you going to pardon me for anything I do, no matter how wrong I am?”
“What did she say that made you so angry?”
She cringed. Was he really going to make her repeat it? “Nothing I hadn’t heard a hundred times before. This fight wasn’t about Star. She just happened to be there when I lost it.”
“I agree, but I still want to know. What did she say?”
Sighing heavily, she admitted, “She made fun of my weight, called me a fat whore.”
He tensed. She could feel his muscles harden beneath her hands. “You are not fat. That’s ridiculous.”
She said nothing, was too upset to explain her lifelong struggle to someone with less than ten percent body fat.
“Did Star hit you first?” His voice changed, hardened, as he went back into chancellor mode.
Thank God. She needed a judge, not a lover. She didn’t deserve tenderness. At least not yet. Her bad decisions were compounding because there had been no consequences. She didn’t know how to stop the downward spiral, but he did. “She gave me one little slap and I beat the shit out of her.” She shook her head, horribly ashamed of her overreaction. “She’s rude and mean-spirited, but she didn’t deserve that.”
His long fingers curved around her chin and his gaze narrowed. “And last night? How large a part did you play in what happened?”
She tensed. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. “I flirted with them. Oh, God, I encouraged one to smell me, knowing it would arouse him and the others. Sniffing is like foreplay to you guys.”
He locked his hands behind his back, gaze unreadable as he stared down at her. “There’s no ‘like’ about it, Kyla. Sniffing is foreplay. To Ventori males potential mates smell like fresh baked bread. We can’t help but want a taste. Did you want the guards to taste you?”
“No.” She backed up a step. Smiling Bron was intimidating enough. Frowning Chancellor Savator terrified her. She wanted the teddy bear back, the male who’d kissed her knuckles and wiped away her tears. “I just wanted to hold their attention long enough for Erin to escape.”
The door banged open as LeAuntiez burst into the room. He rushed to Kyla and held her shoulders as he looked her over carefully. “What in Creation’s name is going on? Your anger just about knocked me over and now I feel fear.”
“She should be afraid,” Bron muttered. “She’s finally explaining all the things she did last night, so I can determine her punishment.”
Punishment. The word reverberated through her mind like thunder. She’d urged him in this direction, but it sounded so much more damning when spoken in his deep, authoritative voice. Would another spanking make her feel better? Would it rid her of this oppressive guilt?
Something noticeable, yet silent, passed between them, then LeAuntiez nodded. “Don’t let me stop you.”
“Enticing the guards was foolish, but what followed was entirely their fault. You will not bring it up again.” Bron paused and waited for her attention to refocus on him. “Your wrongdoing lies with Erin.”
Understanding unfurled inside Kyla and her blood turned to ice. “I didn’t mean for her to be gone this long. I planned on letting her get far enough away to feel like she’d accomplished something, then I was going to notify…” His expression didn’t change, didn’t soften. Trepidation sped her pulse and made it hard to breathe. She’d really done it this time. Bron was seriously pissed. “This isn’t what I’d planned. I would never hurt Erin. She’s my best friend.”
“And yet you enabled her to spend the night in the wasteland. Do you understand how dangerous it is out there?”
She lowered her gaze and nodded, too ashamed to speak.
“I require a verbal answer. The proper response is ‘yes, Sir.’”
“Yes, Sir.” Her mouth was so dry she barely got the words out. This wasn’t a game, a semi-entertaining act to help her work through her emotions. She was in big trouble this time.
“We will continue this at home.” They exited headquarters through a side door and she automatically moved toward LeAuntiez. Bron caught her arm and said, “You’re with me.”
LeAuntiez nodded once then leapt into the air, and his ‘wings’ appeared as if by magic. She smiled, despite the turmoil around her. He called it manifesting, but it truly was magical. His wings weren’t covered in feathers. In fact, they weren’t even solid. They were a hazy, iridescent state between matter and energy. She didn’t understand how it worked, but the phenomenon was beautiful.
“Come.” Bron tugged on her arm to ensure she obeyed.
Generally when she was given that command, it was a lot more enjoyable.
She rode on the back of his skimmer, arms wrapped around his lean waist. Touching him, pressing against him, and inhaling his scent over and over awakened her body, preparing her for—something that wouldn’t happen until after she was disciplined. Oddly enough, that thought added to her arousal rather than extinguishing it.
She’d been intrigued by the concept of domestic discipline and the spanking LeAuntiez gave her this morning only heightened her fascination. Yes, it had hurt more than she expected, but what followed had been worth every spank. Her heightened emotions had made the orgasms that much more intense.
It wasn’t far to the house he shared with Bron, but the trip was depressing. Fort Smith had once been a thriving community, at its heart a sprawling military base. Now it was a charred ruin, a stark testament to the power of their enemy.
LeAuntiez had opened the garage door for them, so Bron flew into the mostly empty bay. He motioned for her to precede him then triggered the motorized door.
The house felt cool and welcoming after the humid warmth of the Texas evening. The sun set during their ride, but it was not yet dark. He led her into the living room where LeAuntiez waited. She looked at one male and then the other, heart thudding madly in her chest.
“Undress,” Bron ordered.
Here? Shouldn’t they go to the bedroom? They weren’t going to fuck her, at least not yet. They were going to punish her.
“Failure to obey a direct order is a punishable offense,” LeAuntiez reminded.
Surprised by his harsh tone, she looked at him.
“Lower your gaze,” was his only response.
Okay, so they were going to be like that. She started undressing. Her hands shook so badly she could hardly accomplish the task, but neither moved to help her. She hadn’t worn underwear since the Ventori started providing her clothing, so she soon stood before them naked—again. She desperately wanted to see their faces, but it didn’t seem like a good idea.
“Why are you in trouble?” Bron resumed, his voice every bit as gruff as it had been in the lounge.
“I endangered my best friend.” Her chest felt tight, her heart heavy. How could she have been so careless, so reckless?
“Correct. What else?”
She licked her lips, barely able to stand still. Adrenaline was making her jittery. “I flirted with—”
“No.” His voice sliced like a knife. “Stay focused on Erin.”
She could do that. Erin was still in danger because of their foolishness. “We were out past curfew.”
“True. Why did I enact the curfew?”
With a heavy sigh, she admitted, “To keep us safe.”
He circled her slowly, hands clasped behind his back. “Was Erin the only one endangered by your behavior?”
“No, Sir. I put myself in danger as well.”
“And who are you? Why is your safety so important?”
She tensed, unsure what he meant. “I’m…” Nobody. A chubby department store clerk, one among thousands.
“Who are you to me?” Bron prompted.
Her eyes widened and she glanced at him then back down. His expression was fiercely protective, almost predatory. Of course. “I’m your potential mate.”
“Am I important? Is LeAuntiez?”
“Of course, Sir. It’s your job to protect the entire Earth. If it wasn’t for you and your men, humans would be dead or enslaved by the Skarilians.”
“Then is the safety of our mate any less important than Erin’s safety?” He moved in close, his voice soft and textured with both menace and sensual promise.
“No, Sir. I was wrong to take such risks. It was foolish and it won’t happen again.”
He wrapped his hand around her throat, banding her flesh without squeezing. “We’re going to make damn sure of it.”
She trembled, knees nearly giving out.
“Bend over the ottoman, ass in the air.” He moved his hand so she could obey.
No longer sure if she could remain standing, she knelt and laid her torso across the ottoman. The smooth leather felt cold against her breasts and cheek. Bron walked up behind her and pulled her hips up, raising her ‘ass in the air.’ But then he moved to the other side of the ottoman and sat in the matching chair. He gathered her arms, pulling them up on either side of her head. He held her hands as if to keep her from—
Her ass cheeks were pulled apart and she gasped, trying to look back. It was no use. Bron held her down and she’d momentarily forgotten about LeAuntiez. She’d been focused on Bron, presuming he was going to punish her.
LeAuntiez spread cool gel around her anus. He’d been busy while he waited for Bron and her to arrive on the skimmer. He teased the puckered opening, making her squirm. “Hold still. You will accept your punishment without struggle. That’s part of submission.”
Was he going to fuck her ass, drive his big cock into her like Becky’s mates had done? Kyla couldn’t stand the tension and blurted, “What are you going to do?”
“What needs to be done.”
This was why Bron was holding her down. They didn’t want her to see what was coming. Anticipation and uncertainty were part of the punishment. She stilled, sinking deeper into the moment, focusing on what her body was telling her rather than the chaotic thoughts twisting through her mind.
“Better. Try to relax.” LeAuntiez rubbed her firmly for a moment, then slowly pushed inside. The angle made it seem like he was using his thumb. Moments later his fingers played with her folds, confirming the position of his hand in her mind.
“Stop thinking and feel.” His free hand reached around her hip and plucked her clit, ensuring she follow his advice. “Feel my thumb sliding in your ass, and my fingers in your pussy.” As he pulled nearly out with his thumb, he positioned his fingers and then pushed into her together. “No matter what I do to you, no matter how good it feels, you are not allowed to come. If you do everything we say without argument, the pleasure will come later. Much later.”
He filled her with short, hard thrusts, his other hand continuing to lightly pluck her clit. Pleasure built inside her, rapidly carrying her toward a sharp climax. “Stop, please stop,” she cried. “I’m really close.”
“Fight it off.” LeAuntiez released her clit for a moment, but didn’t withdraw his fingers or slow the motion of his hand. “Pleasure must be earned.”
She gritted her teeth and frantically fought back the urgency as her body threatened to betray her.
“It works better if you relax,” Bron told her, his voice soft and throaty. The bastard was enjoying this! “Concentrate on your breathing.”
She closed her eyes and followed his advice, but LeAuntiez wasn’t helping at all. He rotated his hand, sliding his fingers out of her pussy. His thumb withdrew next and she breathed a sigh of relief, but the reaction was premature. He positioned his fingers against her anus and slowly pushed inside. Was that just two fingers? They felt enormous. How in the world was she ever going to take his cock?
“Your body belongs to us now. You belong to us. Never again will you endanger yourself. Is that clear?” He punctuated the question with a series of super-fast thrusts, rocking her against the ottoman. It didn’t hurt, but the wet slapping sounds made her feel degraded, used. There was no tenderness in this, no connection. He’d basically done the same thing this morning after her spanking, but the contrast was glaring.
He shoved in all the way, then pulled up until her anus stretched and stung. “I asked you a question.”
She cried out, shocked and humiliated by his harsh treatment. “Yes. I understand.”
He lowered his hand, then slowly removed his fingers. She felt strangely empty and alone. More gel drizzled onto her abused rear opening. She tensed, then shivered as he worked it inside with the tantalizing slide of those wicked fingers. She’d just begun to enjoy the sensations, when he pulled his hand away and positioned something larger. Was that his cock? No it wasn’t warm, like flesh. More like a butt plug or dildo. She’d done this sort of thing before, but the toy she used was smaller than a cock, probably smaller than two of his fingers. She liked the slide. It always made her feel naughty. But she feared the stretching pain of anything more invasive.
He drove the toy inward with steady pressure. She closed her eyes and tried to relax, even push out against the invasion.
“Take it,” LeAuntiez ordered. “This ass is ours and we intend to use it often.”
Dark desire curled through her as she imagined LeAuntiez filling her, using her, stretching her until she screamed with the pleasure/pain. Her sphincter gradually spread, opening for whatever he was working inside her. She clenched and unclenched her hands, fighting hard not to struggle or tense up.
The slow burn flared into actual pain for a split second, and then the stubborn muscle contracted around a narrowing and she sighed. Definitely a butt plug. She’d seen images of them on the internet, back when the internet was still operational.
“Good girl,” he praised, but he wasn’t finished.
She heard the familiar hum of a vibrator and groaned. If she wasn’t allowed to come, this was going to suck. He traced her slit with the toy, awakening nerve endings she thought she had under control. His free hand wandered over her ass, down her legs and up onto her back. And that horrible toy slid over her sex, pushing just barely inside her pussy, then circling her clit.
Her arousal built quickly, helpless against all the new sensations. But LeAuntiez knew how to read her body, when to push her and when to pull away. Over and over he brought her to the brink, then denied her the reward. She whimpered and moaned, moving her head to one side and then the other. Still, she couldn’t escape the persistent stimulation.
“Please!” she cried as yet another orgasm fizzled away. “Either stop or let me come!”
He turned off the vibrator and set it aside. “This is your first real punishment, so I’ll go easy on you.”
This was easy? Her core ached and her clit felt swollen and over-sensitized. Even her nipples hurt from rubbing against the ottoman. “Will you please take that thing out? It feels really strange.”
“It stays until morning,” LeAuntiez stated emphatically.
“Why?” She twisted around so she could look at him. “I didn’t resist. I stayed still like you told me to.”
“That’s not part of the punishment. You need it, love. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He was stretching her, ‘training’ her, so she could take his cock without pain. She was glad for the precaution, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.
“Besides, I love the way it looks. There’s a sweet pink jewel tucked between your soft, round cheeks. Adorable.” He squeezed the cheeks he’d just praised then lightly swatted her. “I think it would look even better with some more color. What do you say, Bron?”
Letting go of her hands, Bron stood and they switched places. Now LeAuntiez held her down and Bron stood behind her.
Her heartbeat thundered through her veins. If LeAuntiez wasn’t going to fuck her ass, then this would be a more conventional punishment. Which likely meant pain. But what would Bron use—firm open hand, a paddle? Oh, shit, what if he had a flogger or some sort of whip? All those things had been titillating to look at, to read about and imagine. The prospect of actually being hit by any of them was not nearly so tantalizing.
Bron ran his hand along her back as he shifted position. “Your skin is so smooth, so pale for a human. Do you never go outside?”
“Sunscreen.” Her voice broke, so she swallowed and tried again. “I burn really easily.” She was still horribly aware of the plug lodged deep inside her. It didn’t hurt, just felt intrusive.
Bron’s fingers contoured to her ass cheek. Why did they keep doing that? Good thing they had big hands. She cringed at the denigrating thought. What more could they do to assure her that they liked her body just the way it was? She was being ridiculous.
Bron squeezed and she closed her eyes, torn between anticipation and dread. “This ass is perfect for fucking, but it’s also ideal for discipline. I can’t wait to watch the marks form and know I put them there.” Dread won out and she tensed. “No.” He squeezed her again. “Don’t flex. Remain loose and accepting. Submit.” He whispered the last word into her ear.
She relaxed the muscles and concentrated on her breathing as he’d recommended earlier. The slight pressure of his hand disappeared. She heard an odd metallic rattle, then the familiar rasp of a belt being pulled from its loops. Her eyes flew open. Dear God. She was getting the belt.
She raised her upper body off the ottoman. “I think I—”
LeAuntiez pushed her back down.
“I don’t want to do this! I’m sorry, really sorry.”
They both ignored her objections, but LeAuntiez said, “Don’t fight the pain. That only makes it worse.”
Bron’s hand smacked each butt cheek a couple of times and she breathed a sigh of relief. He was just scaring her, warning her what would come next if she didn’t—
She heard a faint swishing, then fire exploded across her ass. She screamed, tugging against LeAuntiez’s hold, desperate to cover her stinging rear end.
“Be still,” LeAuntiez ordered, his hold unbreakable.
Bron swung again. Even knowing what to expect, she cried out sharply and twisted her hips. “Please stop. Please! Please!” She’d thought the spanking was painful. It was nothing compared to this.
“Do you deserve punishment?”
If she said yes, he’d swing the belt. If she said no, he’d punish her for lying because she’d already admitted she’d been wrong. There was no good answer, no answer that would spare her this pain.
LeAuntiez squeezed her wrists in warning. “Answer him.”
“Yes.” The word ended with a sob.
Again and again the belt made contact with her ass. She writhed and moaned, lost in a maelstrom of pain and emotion. Tears ran unchecked down her face as hard sobs made her entire body quake. Shame resurfaced with a vengeance, bringing Erin’s image with it. What kind of a person let their best friend run headlong into danger? Especially when that friend was as sheltered as Erin had been. Erin had never made her own bed, never prepared a meal. Her family had staff for menial tasks like those.
Another swing and another harsh sob.
Kyla felt like the world’s worst friend. She’d known Erin was out of control, yet she fed into the hysteria rather than acting like an adult. “I’m sorry.” Regret propelled the words from her and the next swat was significantly softer. She welcomed the next few swings, absorbing the pain, using it to purge her guilt. The swats slowed and finally stopped. LeAuntiez released her hands and started rubbing her back. “We have to find her. Oh, please, let her be all right.”
Bron tossed the belt aside and pulled her torso upward. “We’ll find her.” He tilted her head back and looked into her eyes. “The Brokvata never quit and they never fail. LeAuntiez doesn’t allow it.”
She nodded, blinking away the last of her tears. Her butt throbbed, echoing her heartbeat, but she felt lighter, freed from the encumbering guilt she’d been carrying since yesterday. “How did you know this would help?”
“Experience.” He pulled her up and into his arms, then kissed her forehead. “But you knew it too. I had decided not to punish you because of last night. You helped me see that was a mistake.”
She cringed, gently touching her painful skin. “This wasn’t what I pictured when I drew your attention to my misbehavior.”
“I know, but anything less intense wouldn’t have helped.”
He was probably right, but her butt hurt too badly to admit it.
“When’s the last time you ate?” LeAuntiez wanted to know.
She glanced at him and smiled. “The last time you fed me.”
“That’s what I figured.” He motioned toward the kitchen. “She needs fuel for tonight. Can’t have her passing out from the pleasure.”
Pleasure. She sighed. She was so ready for pleasure.
Bron chuckled and took her hand, leading her into the adjoining room. Rather than sitting at the table, however, he said, “I’ll be right back. Don’t sit down until I return.”
She nodded as he left the kitchen, suspecting it would be too painful anyway. “Did you and Bron eat?”
“We were waiting for you.”
So they could eat with her, or so they could eat her? The naughty thought made her flush. As usual.
Seeing the heightened color, LeAuntiez ambled toward her. “I love how your blushes go all the way down.” He cupped her breast, then bent and sucked on her nipple. “Are you having wicked thoughts?”
“Always when I’m around you and Bron.”
He looked up at her and smiled. “That’s encouraging.” Without changing his expression, he straightened and said, “Open your legs.”
Without thought or argument she moved her feet farther apart, spreading her thighs for him.
“More.”
She obeyed.
He traced her slit with his fingertip, gaze locked with hers. “You’re already wet. That’s encouraging too.” He pushed one of his fingers up into her core, which was tighter than usual because of the plug.
She reached back and steadied herself against the table. It felt so damn good to be touched like this, to look into his eyes and see the need she’d inspired in such an amazing male. That stripper bitch might think she was fat, but LeAuntiez clearly liked her body.
“Bron is pod leader, so he’ll fuck you here.” He slid his finger in and out, illustrating the motion soon to follow. Then he leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers. “Your ass isn’t ready yet, so I get your amazing mouth.” With his finger still fucking her pussy, he kissed her ‘amazing’ mouth.
Kyla opened for him, returning his kiss as passionately as he delivered it.
“Started without me, I see. That’s what I get for leaving the room.”
“Let’s eat after,” LeAuntiez said in between kisses, his hand still pumping between her legs.
“Fine by me. You’re the one insisting on feeding her. I’d rather eat her.”
His words were so similar to her earlier thought that it made her laugh.
“I hope that’s not a reflection on my kissing,” LeAuntiez grumbled playfully.
“Hardly. I was thinking the same thing earlier. That’s what made me blush.”
“I see.” LeAuntiez turned her around and guided her hands to the tabletop.
She looked back, confused by the position. How could she suck his cock like this? He’d have to climb up onto the table.
“Let’s calm this down a bit.” Bron squeezed some sort of cream onto his hand then gently applied it to her abused rear end. His touch was soft and careful as he tended to the injury he’d caused.
The cream felt cool, soothing, then it tingled and gradually muted the discomfort. The pain wasn’t gone completely, for which she was glad. She didn’t want it over that easily. Erin was still out there and Kyla wouldn’t forgive herself completely until Erin was safe again.
And she’d check on Star, make sure she fully recovered before Kyla let anyone heal her bruised-up hands.
“Better?”
She nodded, then remembered that Bron preferred verbal responses. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
He pressed both hands over her ass cheeks and gave them a gentle squeeze, likely to see if the cream was working. “You should have thanked me for the correction as soon as it ended. You will do so from now on.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Now your hands.”
His stern tone booked no refusal, so she reluctantly held up her bruised knuckles. A thin layer of cream numbed the persistent throb, but the discoloration remained. She’d still have a reminder for a while anyway. “Thank you, Sir.”
Bron nodded. “Now go upstairs. I don’t want to fuck you for the first time on the kitchen table.”
“How about the second or third time? I think it sounds kind of sexy.” She dared a mischievous smile as she stole a glimpse at his handsome face.