From the Alien Alphas anthology – coming January 16th (preorder Dec. 5th!)
Keelie has just disobeyed Siridin for the second time.
She moved around to the table and approached him. He took her wrists and pulled her between his legs. This time she stared into his eyes, the irises so blue. Right now they were in an oval, halfway between the slits he had in bright light, and the ovals he had in the dark. This was the closest she’d ever been, and she found herself studying them with curiosity.
“Why were you crying earlier?” he asked. “Was it the spanking?”
She chewed over her words.“Before you started, I was really scared and angry that you were going to hit me, just like all the other men here. And then it felt so good when you stroked my skin, but I just knew you were going to claim your right to my nectar. And then… you complimented me, and then you told me it was my pussy, and you wouldn’t touch it until I asked you to. I didn’t have any idea what to say.” Her cheeks felt hot and red. “When you started spanking me, it hurt, a lot. I’ve never been very good at holding still, or being quiet, and that usually gets me more punishment. But instead of getting angry, you just held me tighter. And then it was done. You asked me if I understood why I was spanked, and reminded me who was in charge on this ship and that your orders had to be obeyed – oh!” Her eyes flew up to his.
“Yes?” he queried, a small grin on his face, the first she’d seen.
“I just disobeyed you again,” she said softly.
“Are you going to spank me again?” She wasn’t sure that was so bad.
Her heart fluttered, and there might have been a little tiny ache between her legs, something so foreign to her after hundreds of forced orgasms that she wasn’t sure what it meant. He grabbed something out of a drawer, and her heart sank when she saw it was a wide wooden spoon. He turned her sideways, and pressed her back lightly, and she bent over his tree trunk leg without resistance.
Like the last time, he stroked her back, and she relaxed. When his hand was replaced by the coolness of the spoon, she tensed in anticipation. He chuckled.
“Why are you here, again?” His tone became all business.
“I disobeyed you, again, sir.”
“That’s right. Each time I have to punish you it gets a little harder. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered.
“New rules. You will not kick up, you will not try to twist away, and you will keep your cheeks soft, not tense, to show that you accept the pain of this punishment.”
“I don’t think I can do that!”
“I’ll help you. I’m going to smack you five times. Stay still and soft, just for those five. You can grab my leg if you need to.”
She grabbed one leg and held on for dear life. She felt the spoon lift off of her skin, and tried not to get tense—
The spoon smacked down across the softest part of both cheeks. It stung, but not too horrible. She clenched reflexively after the smack, then unclenched and waited. He smacked her again. A little more sting, but she took some deep breaths and held still. Then three in quick succession. She grabbed his leg <don’t tense up, don’t tense up, don’t tense up!> and managed to stay still.
“Good. Very good.” He stroked her cheeks again and she sighed at the blissful feeling. She thought she heard another chuckle from above her.
“Now the next five. They’re going to be faster, and sting more, but you’re not going to clench. You can grab my leg, but keep those cheeks soft, and those legs still.”
His hand smacked down again, still on the pillow of her cheeks, and then four more times in rapid succession. She squealed, but didn’t move.
“Good.” He rubbed again. “Someday I’d love to train you to take a punishment completely silently, so that I can decide when you’ve been punished enough by the redness of your ass, not the noises you make.”
She let out a quiet moan. She was pretty sure the bulge under her thigh twitched. She hardly had time to register what had just happened when he smacked her three more times on the same spot. She barely bit back a shriek.
“How many more?” she asked, trying to steel herself for what was coming.
“A question like that will get you spanked between the legs if you ever ask it again. And the answer will always be: until I feel like stopping.”
She whimpered. She felt the spoon lift up, and she gripped his leg hard, as he started up again – five smacks, rest, five smacks – until her butt once more felt like it was on fire. She abandoned her thin thread of control and started pleading and struggling. He merely gripped her tighter and kept going, not pausing, until she was sobbing out her apologies and promising never to disobey again.
At last it stopped.
“Shh…” he whispered as he stroked her back. “It’s over now. You did fine. And I know you’ll remember this lesson.”
“Yes, sir,” she hiccuped.
There was nothing angry in his tone. There was only gentle touching now. She was so confused by her reactions and his, and it only made her weep harder. She didn’t know if he understood, but he gently turned her over and sat her on his knees, and held her against his chest without saying anything.
Eventually the crying stopped.
“You did good. We’ll work on it.”
She shook her head vehemently. “I’m never going to do anything wrong ever again to be there.”
He started to say something, then stopped, and instead helped her to stand. She looked down at his thighs and to her horror realized there was a huge wet spot right over the bulge on his trousers. She’d leaked nectar during the spanking?
He followed her gaze and chuckled.
She was mortified. Horrified. She turned and ran into the fresher and slammed the door. She stripped off the shirt and turned on the shower and soaped and rinsed until there was no lubrication anywhere between her legs. Her humiliation was complete, and she vowed to stay in the shower for the rest of her life.