The King pours himself a drink. I don’t know his real name. Apparently, very few actually do. Most call him The Dark Dragon. I always thought it was a bit harsh, but now? Now I’m not so sure.
He sips his beverage and stares at me. I try hard not to stare back at him, but after a few minutes, I lose that battle and look.
He’s about the same height as Lee. His dark hair is short, cut close to his head, and his green eyes sparkle like emeralds. He’s a green dragon. I wonder if his eyes change color when he shifts. His muscular chest shows even through his shirt, and my eyes wander lower.
His pants are very, very tight, leaving little to the imagination. How big is his cock? Am I going to get a chance to taste it? Try as I did, no one on the ship would let me blow them. They all wanted me to save it for the King because they thought it would fetch me a higher price.
A few said my first time should be “special.”
Most just wanted the money.
“Care to take a picture?” The King asks, and I immediately raise my eyes back to his. He’s staring at me with a look of complete boredom on his face and I realize he’s like a spoiled brat who just got a birthday gift he didn’t like.
Wisely, for once, I decide to stay quiet.
“Ah, now she holds her tongue,” he clucks, and sets his drink down. He walks back over and looks me up and down. Even in my dress, I feel naked beneath his gaze. “Let’s get something straight, darling,” he whispers in my ear. “I don’t want you.”
He doesn’t want me.
“I don’t need you.”
He doesn’t want me.
“I wanted a beautiful little slut to be my plaything, to be my toy, and fucking Lee brought me you.” He says the “you” with such venom that I suddenly feel nauseous. I expected a lot of things from my new life on Taneyemm, but disgust was not one of them.
My newfound curves suddenly make me feel awkward and embarrassed. I exercised almost every on my journey, so my body is now strong and muscular, but I’m still soft. My breasts are bigger than they’ve ever been and my hips have filled out.
I look healthy, or so I thought. Maybe the King is right.
Maybe I’m just a cow.
He doesn’t want me.
“Why don’t you return me?” I whisper. Maybe he should just give someone else a chance on me.
He laughs, but he still doesn’t want me.
“I don’t think so. I think having you could prove to be useful. You do speak Drakonai, after all. Perhaps my men will speak more freely around a house slave than they will around me, especially if they don’t realize you can speak.”
He doesn’t want me.
“Yes, I think I’ll keep you, but fuck you? Darling, you will never see my bed.” He walks by me and pinches my nipple as he does. “Fucking virgin,” he mutters, and then he leaves the room.
As soon as the door closes I pick up the glass he set on the desk and throw it at the back of the door. It falls to the floor and shatters, but before I can start screaming obscenities, he marches right back into the room and pushes me forward over his desk. He flips my dress up and starts raining slaps on my backside. His spanking is hard and fast and painful.
Sexy?
Not so much.
“You are a naughty little girl and naughty girls get spankings,” he says firmly. His voice is not kind. His hand does not feel nice. I do not feel loved or cared for or cherished. I feel like a cheap whore who couldn’t keep her client satisfied, and as he spanks me, I cry loudly. By the time he’s done, my body is slack against the desk.
“Stay until May comes for you,” he says, and then he leaves again, and this time, I don’t dare move.
***
“He really did a number on you, didn’t he?” May says softly when she enters. I finally turn around to see her. She has a kind face. She’s older than me, if I had to guess. I’m 28, and I think she must be at least 10 years older.
May is the same height as me and a bit heavier. She’s got the full, lush curves of a woman. Even though the King called me fat, I wouldn’t say that about May. She’s no thin waif, but she’s not fat.
She defines curvy.
Her dress is sleeveless, like mine, but it ends just below her knees. The fabric clings to her body and if I didn’t know better, I’d think she was going to a special event. She’s barefoot, so I suspect this might just be what she wears around the house.
“I’m Riley,” I manage to say.
“I know, honey,” she helps me stand and pushes the fabric of my dress down. I hiss as it hits my sore backside, and May winces in understanding. “It’ll hurt for a few days,” she says, “but the worst is over.”
She takes my arm and guides me from the room.
I don’t bother looking back.
We enter the hallway and she walks with the confidence of someone who knows what’s up.
“How long have you been here?” I ask.
“20 years.”
“Where are you from?”
“Somewhere far away.”
“Do you miss it?”
May stops and turns to me. Her hand finds my face, but her touch is gentle and understanding.
“These are dangerous questions, Riley. You need to be sure you can handle knowing you can’t ever go back before you ask if you miss it, okay? I know you’re asking about me, not you, but it’s a fine line, honey. The Taneyemm,” she lowers her voice, even though we’re alone. “They aren’t bad, but they’re different. Sometimes different is hard. Sometimes it’s very, very hard.”
We walk the rest of the way in silence. She leads me up four flights of stairs and I wonder exactly how big this place is. We go down another hallway with a few turns before we end up in a small bedroom. There’s a bed in one corner, a large armoire, and a window.
For the first time in years, I have a window.
“The bathroom is down the hall,” she says. “Try not to leave the room unless you absolutely have to.”
I turn back to her, confused.
“You aren’t going to lock me in?”
May shakes her head.
“Trust me. You won’t risk running away if you know what they’re capable of.”
“What do I do now?” I sit on the bed. It’s soft and a little bouncy. I’m exhausted and to be honest, I’ll probably just go to sleep.
“It’s late,” May says. “I’ll come get you in the morning. For now, you should rest as much as you can. Tomorrow will be a big day.”
“Thanks, May.”
She nods goodbye and leaves, closing the door behind her. Now I’m alone. The first thing I do is go to the window and stare. The glass is perfectly clear. There are no smudges or scrapes and I almost feel guilty pressing my hand to it.
I have to, though.
It’s dark outside, but there are lights sprinkled throughout the grounds. They light several paths that lead in different directions. I think they’re garden paths, but it’s too dark to tell.
Figures move slowly in the dark and a shiver runs down my spine as I see one begin to change shape. I’ve never seen a dragon shift from human form before. I think that’s what’s happening.
It’s too dark to see the details, but it doesn’t take long before the shape leaps into the air and I see its bright, colorful wings flapping. The lights reflect off the wings and I see sprinklings of different colors. I wonder what this dragon looks like in the daytime.
He or she must be beautiful.
And then the dragon turns.
My heart stops.
Can it see me?
Can it hear me?
Am I talking to myself?
Am I breathing too loudly?
I stare, and the dragon flies over to the window. His snout and eyes stare straight into my room and my jaw hits the floor.
Those eyes are so bright and sweet. This is definitely not the King. No, this is a kind dragon. This is a good dragon. I press my hand back to the glass and the dragon licks the glass with its long tongue.
Then, after it blinks a few more times, the dragon flies off into the darkness.
What a weird fucking night.