Page 18 of Bred

“Do you want me to spank you, little one. Do you want me to make your bottom nice and hot and sore?”

Oh, god. There’s an intimacy in his voice I don’t understand, and an answering tingle between my thighs that doesn’t make any sense. If I am to be truly honest, the answer is yes. I do want him to make me hot and sore. I want more than that too. I want to feel pleasure again. I’ve had so little of that in my life.

His hands roam my bottom, and then I feel a little tap, followed by a harder slap. Enough to sting just a little. Enough to give me a hint of what could be. One of the hands on my bottom moves to the thigh of my inner leg and parts it a little. Now I am being held at head, waist, and leg as his final hand rubs my bottom, spanking my exposed cheeks with a deceptively light touch. I know he can make this hurt more. I don’t know why he isn’t.

His fingers dip between my cheeks and stroke ever so lightly over the seam of my lips. Oh, fuck. Is he allowed to do this? It doesn’t matter. He is doing it. He teases my pussy with a few gentle rubs, then returns his palm to the task of spanking me, firm swats landing crisply against my ass. It doesn’t hurt, even when it starts to get harder and faster. Every time his fingers return to my pussy I feel a fresh rush of excitement, little tingles running through my sex and low in my belly.

Soon I cannot contain myself. He spanks my bottom and he rubs my pussy and my traitorous body is eager for the pleasure that accompanies the pain. It doesn’t matter that I don’t like the cruel, stern man imparting it. The sensations coursing through me demand their own conclusion and soon I am spread-legged and writhing for him, my body entirely at his command as he rubs my pussy toward an orgasm that feels entirely wrong, and yet is only made all the more toe-curlingly powerful for it.

“Yes,” he purrs. “Show me how your cunt quivers for me.”

His fingers push inside me, fucking me with deep strokes that don’t match the experience of an alien cock, but are enough for my wanting, desperate body anyway. Spanked sore and fingered to climax, I ride the wave of my punishment, feeling the sensation of hot stinging pain melding with something much warmer and pleasant until finally the charge he has lit detonates inside me and I am bucking between all of his hands, my pussy leaking juices over his fingers as my inner walls clench his digits.

In the aftermath, I am panting and red-faced and ashamed. I’ve orgasmed for two men on this ship. I’m starting to wonder if there are any limits to my experience now. All the human rules and customs are gone, obliterated by space and the utter alien alien-ness of it all.

Shank rubs his hand over my pussy possessively. “I like you, little human,” he rumbles. “You are soft, yet spirited, and your disobedience means there will be plenty of opportunities to discipline you.”

“So you... want me to misbehave?”

“No. You will behave. I will ensure that.”

Sounds to me like he is contradicting himself, but I’m not in the mood to ask for an extended explanation. One thing is clear, he has taken an interest in me. Just as Talon has.

Shank slips me off his thighs and guides me down onto my knees. “Stay there,” he says.

He turns and leaves the room. I am naked, on my knees, wondering why I’m obeying him. I should resist. I should get up and tell him to go fuck himself. I should...

He’s back, and he has something in two of his hands. He crouches down in front of me, and I discover that it is a collar. A thick ring of rubber, the edges of which meld into each other when they are pressed together around my neck.

“This is crude,” he says, “and simple, but I think it will be effective in keeping you under control. You may stand and put your suit back on.”

That’s an invitation I’m not going to turn down. I stand up and scramble back into my clothing, feeling the damp apex of my thighs as a shameful reminder of how I just came for him.

“Come with me,” he says. “And stay close. You move more than three steps away from me at any time, and I will whip your ass. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” I mumble.

“You are never going to be unsupervised on this ship again,” he tells me. “If you find yourself alone, I want you to return to your quarters and stay there until you are released. Understand that?”

“Yes, sir. I understand.”

I have been humbled, and not necessarily by his discipline, but by his orgasmic mercy.

Shank takes me from the room where I’ve been stuck for too long and leads me through the ship. I stay on his heels, practically tripping over him in order to avoid punishment again, at least, until we arrive at our destination, a huge hall filled with what has to be nearly a hundred different aliens of all species.

“Whoa!” I stop dead and stare, until Shank turns toward me, his silver eyes glowing with disapproval, and snaps his fingers at me, making me rush to his side.

“This is where we eat,” he says, taking me to a machine that dispenses trays of food. “These can generate nutrition according to your physical needs. All you do is put your hand inside the slot, it will be analyzed and an appropriate form of food will be provided. Try it.”

I do as he tells me, not expecting much. What they’ve been feeding me since I got here has been edible, but that’s basically all I can say for it. I feel a light heat rushing over my palm and fingers, and a moment later, a little door slides open. Sitting on a tray is a hamburger and fries.

“Oh, my god! How did it do that? That’s magic!”

Shank smiles at my excitement. “Come sit and eat,” he says. “You are fortunate to be able to sit.”

It does sting a little when I put my butt on the hard seating, but I know better than to complain. Shank is hardly likely to be sympathetic to me. I know I basically just got away with what I did to the power coupling. All I endured was one hard punishment, and one that ended in an orgasm that is almost as good as these fries, which are crispy and hot and salted just right.

“Oh, my god,” I mumble. “These are amazing.”

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