Page 14 of Bred

I clench in anticipation of fresh pain. God, I hate this. I want it to be over so badly. Closing my eyes doesn’t change what’s going to happen, but it makes me feel just the littlest bit safer.

Another hard swat from the belt sears across the very center of my bottom. I hiss and grit my teeth and grip the bench and curse at him in my head, calling him the worst things I can think of. One more. I can do one more. I can survive this.

Smack!

The last one is the hardest by far. It feels twice as intense as any of the ones that came before it. A shriek escapes me before I can stop it, followed by a low wail. I only just manage to stop myself bursting into tears, though I can feel my eyes watering.

Pain makes me hate this alien man. He is cruel and seems to take pleasure in inflicting pain. He didn’t need to strike me that hard, or punish me this long. It is going to hurt to sit. It is going to hurt to walk. It’s going to just plain hurt.

“Get up.”

I stand up. My impulse is to put my hands back and rub, but I’ll be damned if I let this silver-eyed brute who likes to be called Sir have the satisfaction of seeing me acknowledge the pain.

“Turn around and face me.”

I do so, still fighting with my impulses.

“Look at me.”

I meet his bright gaze, my jaw locked, teeth gritted, eyes defiant. I can’t even pretend to submit to him. There’s no fucking way. I hate him. I hate this ship. I hate them all for keeping me against my will. And what I did didn’t kill anybody. It just pissed them off because they realized that their ship has the security of a sieve.

I stand there with my ass like molten fire, trying to pretend that this isn’t the smallest and weakest I’ve felt in a very, very long time, but it’s difficult. Every breath seems to make my ass pulse, and all I want is to be alone so I can rub it and get some measure of relief from the sting that is still burning away behind me.

“This is the first of your punishment sessions,” he says. “They will not get easier.”

Well, fuck him. He’s going to do this five more times and make it worse each time. I’m fast reevaluating this ship as being full of advanced aliens. They’re quite obviously brutal sadists with punishment methods we stopped using thousands of years ago. With the way they think, I’m surprised Talon didn’t just break out the cat o’ nine tails and go in on me with that.

Sir reaches into a locker, rifles around for a moment, then pulls out a jumpsuit, which he hands to me.

“Put this on. Your nudity may please the captain, but it distracts the crew.”

I’m grateful for clothing. I’m not thankful for the fact that the suit is on the small and tight side, which means it clings to my legs and when it reaches my bottom, seems to clasp around it, holding on to the very part of my anatomy I very much want to be free.

I am sullen and silent as Sir escorts me back to my quarters. At least I’m not going back to that damn cell, but I refuse to be grateful.

“You’ll stay in this room until you are called upon,” Sir says. “Rations will be provided three times per day at five-hour intervals. Your next installment of punishment will take place in two days.”

With that, he leaves.

I make a rude gesture at the door once it has closed behind him, then reach back and rub my ass. Goddamn. That almost makes it worse. Pressure on my tightly clothed, almost certainly welted skin is not a pleasant thing.

I guess the love affair is over. I pissed off Talon and now I’m not even allowed in his presence. He’s left me to this sadist, Sir, and this little room that might as well be a prison cell.

As the silence and solitude closes in, I lie down on my stomach and contemplate how fucked up this is. Five more punishments like that one, the next one happening in two days. At least I have rations to look forward to, I guess. Provided three times per day even, at five-hour intervals.

Yum.

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