Page 12 of Bred

I already know I’m in trouble. His presence, energy, and expression confirm that.

“Where’s Talon?”

“Captain Talon to you, human,” he snorts, his voice gruff. He has a strange beauty. The silver of his gaze is captivating, but the dark shafts of brows above them indicate that there is no fondness in that stare.

“Where’sCaptainTalon?” I correct the question.

“Not your concern,” he snaps sternly. “You should worry about what is happening to you.”

“What is happening to me?”

“You’re going to be punished.”

I swallow. Well, I mean, I expected this. “I thought I was already being punished, being locked up.” I gesture to the room around me. “You could just leave me in here. I promise you, I don’t like it very much.”

“You’ll like this even less,” whoever this is says.

“What isthisand who areyou?” Both valid questions, but they make him draw himself up and square his shoulders as if I’ve challenged him.

“You will call me Sir. I am the ship’s disciplinarian.”

Well. This isn’t good.

“You will come with me and receive six dozen lashes of leather, a species-appropriate punishment.”

I mull on that as I follow him out of the claustrophobic little space. Perhaps I should resist more. I’m used to following orders and being obedient. Space force requires military discipline. It took a lot for me to fuck with Talon’s ship, but then again, I was thinking of them as enemy agents. Now, in the presence of this Uber-tall alien man, I think of myself as an idiot for trying it. He’s going to physically punish me, as ridiculous as that seems. How many lashes did he say again? I run the math in my head.

“Six dozen! That’s seventy-two!”

“You’re capable of simple mathematical calculations,” he says dryly, leading me into another room that contains a desk and a soft padded bench that is angled down at both ends. Oddly enough, it is sized in such a way as to fit me. So many things I have encountered, from the bath to this bench seem to have been made with me in mind. They must have some kind of production technology that allows them to create what they need when they need it and perhaps break it down thereafter. The ship is far too uncluttered for them to be tailoring everything to various alien captives all the time.

The door shuts behind us and I am alone with this creature who demands I call him Sir, and who has now plucked a long belt out of apparent nothingness.

“Do I get the chance to plead my case? Is there any justice system in this advanced ship? Or are you judge, jury, and executioner?”

“You already admitted to tampering with the power, which, besides being dangerous to the ship, is immensely dangerous to your own silly little self,” Sir lectures. “You must be taught not to become destructive merely because you do not care for your captivity. Now bend over the bench, girl.”

“I don’t need to be taught anything.”

“I disagree. Perhaps by the end of this, you will be capable of making the decision not to destroy the ship which prevents you from dying from space exposure.”

“I wasn’t trying to destroy anything.”

“You have succeeded in destroying the captain’s trust in you. Bend over the bench. You will take your punishment in twelve-stroke installments.”

I do not want to be lashed. I want to go home. My lower lip starts to tremble, and my eyes start to fill with tears. I have worked hard all my life. I have always been the good girl. I’ve never been punished, and I don’t know how to take it.

Making matters worse is the fact that I do not know this man who declares himself my disciplinarian. He frightens me with his absurd height and harsh demeanor. He towers over me at almost eight feet in height. His eyes burn silver with a near angelic fire, and his expression remains calm and stern no matter what.

He points at the bench, and I almost just lie down and let what is going to happen, happen. What can I do, after all? I’m powerless.

But before I can get over the bench, something in me stalls. It’s the same impulse that made me pull that cover off and go for the guts of the ship. I’m not fucking powerless. I have to believe that I have some control over my fate, that these males cannot determine it for me.

I have worked too hard for too long to become a patrol officer. I was the first woman to be allowed to undertake a solo shuttle mission. I was told I wouldn’t be suitable, that it was a male job to be in sole command of a shuttle navigating the outer reaches of human space. The outright sexism should have been surprising, but it wasn’t.

Now these males see me as a weak little female to be kept to submit to their sexual demands. I will show them differently. I am not going to let him punish me. I am not going to lie down and let him beat me for my sins. I’m going to resist. I’m going to fight. I’m going to...

Sir reaches out, grabs me by the arm, and tosses me down on the bench. I did not suspect his strength. It is wildly impressive. He might even be stronger than Talon, if it is possible.

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