Her Alien Commander (8 page)

“No. Stretch out to grip the opposite edge. Pull yourself up onto your toes, lift your bottom up for me, and tell me when you are ready.”

Even fleeing from the Galeians as they played out their parody of a hunt had not scared her as much as this did. She had never felt more helpless, more vulnerable. More utterly alone. But she obeyed him. She had no choice.

“I am ready, sir,” she murmured, her entire body rigid as she waited for the first stroke to land.

Phahlen didn’t keep her waiting long. Caria screamed as pain exploded across her right buttock, the searing streak of pure flame snaking over her skin. She started to rise.

“Stay there.”

His voice stilled her, cold and clipped and quite terrifying. Caria grasped the edge of the table tighter and gritted her teeth. How much more could she take?

The next stroke landed on her left cheek, and was followed swiftly by a third. Phahlen seemed to be placing the stripes one below the other, alternating between her right and left sides. The fourth scorched her left buttock again. Caria screamed with each one, though her cries were lessening. By the time he thrashed the backs of both her thighs in rapid succession she lay limp across his desk and whimpered her desperate apologies. The pain was excruciating, beyond anything she had imagined.

“Enough. You may stand now.”

What?
Caria couldn’t believe it.
He was done. Was he?
She didn’t move, didn’t dare to.

“Do you need me to help you up, little human?” His voice was softer now, kinder. More encouraging still, there was a thud as he dropped the awful strap onto the desk beside her.

Caria opened her eyes, and sure enough the leather lay just a couple of feet from her nose, redundant now. She relaxed her deathly grip on the opposite edge of the desk and tried to gain leverage with her arms. Her entire body hurt, her bottom was aflame. The will to get to her feet seemed to be lacking.

Strong hands took hold of her shoulders and raised her from the desk. Her legs gave way and he caught her, lifted her into his arms, and carried her across the room. He passed through another door and into his sleeping chamber. Caria had seen this part of his quarters earlier as she explored the rooms, but had not wished to remain in there. This room made her very nervous. Or it had. Now as he laid her on the huge circular bed, careful to position her on her side, she relished the seductive comfort it offered.

“You did well. You may sleep now.”

“I thought… I mean, I never expected—”

“I know what you thought, and what you expected. Punishment needs to be harsh in order to make the point, but never too much. Vahle is a stern society, but a just one. I expect to have frequent cause to chastise you, and you will be punished again when you deserve it. Even so, I hope you will never have cause to think me unduly cruel.”

Caria could only stare at him, confused. She hated Phahlen, feared him, resented his high-handed mastery more than she could articulate even to herself. But still, there was some elusive quality to this implacable alien, something she found hard to name. She would think about it later, when she was less sore, less tired, less inclined to dissolve into helpless tears.

Phahlen stroked the tangled hair away from her face. He stood and looked down at her for a few moments, then he left the room. She heard his low voice requesting something from the hospitality station, then he was back. He carried a small pot in his hand.

“This anti-inflammatory cream will do nothing to reduce your discomfort right now, you need to experience that in order to gain the full benefit from my attentions, but it will help to ensure the pain is relatively short-lived. By tomorrow you’ll be fine. Roll onto your stomach, please.”

Caria knew better than to protest. If he wanted to hurt her, he would. It was that simple. But she believed him that he intended to help her so she rolled over as he directed.

She flinched as he smeared the ointment across her tender, punished skin. It was cool though, and a welcome balm in contrast to the heat radiating from her abused bottom. The thrashing with the strap had been dire, the worst experience of her life, especially coming on top of the spanking. She had been sore already, now she grunted with pain as he touched her.

He traced each of her six stripes, drawing his gentle fingers along the length of them and working the cream into her marks. It hurt like fuck but was oddly soothing, too. Caria closed her eyes and allowed herself to explore the outer reaches of her consciousness, seeking the word to describe this. It eluded her, danced just beyond her reach, teasing her from a distance, darting in as though inviting her to grasp it, then shimmering away.

She groaned, tears leaked again. A soft kiss to the nape of her neck and a murmured ‘rest now, little human’ were the only signals that she was not alone. As she drifted off to sleep, Caria knew. She caught it, that slippery, fleeting thing she was trying to capture. Now, she had it.

She was cared for.

* * *

She woke, refreshed. Caria had no idea how long she’d slept, but it had been a deep and fulfilling period of rest. Had her captor perhaps given her something to make her sleep? She thought not, but could never be certain around him. She was fast learning he would do as he pleased as far as she was concerned.

A cover lay over her still nude body. She was as near certain as she could be that it had not been there when she fell asleep, so he must have been back to check on her. She could hear no sounds from the outer chamber so she assumed she was alone in his quarters.

And, she was ravenous.

Caria sat up, and was amazed to find her bottom was still tender, but no more than that. The fearsome whipping must have left marks though, and she wanted to inspect the damage. She hauled herself to her feet and tottered off in the direction of the cubicle set aside for ablutions. A camera set into the wall provided her with a perfect view of her rear end, and she was astonished to see just a faint stain of pink there, certainly not the vivid, angry welts she’d anticipated.

Perhaps her alien was not as heavy-handed as she imagined. Or maybe that cream had worked. She pondered this as she stood under the aqueous shower again, water streaming through her hair. The combination of a deep sleep and an invigorating shower served to sharpen her appetite further, and by the time she padded across to the hospitality station wrapped in a huge, thick towel, she believed she could have eaten a Galeian’s tail.

Not that she would order such a thing. “Breakfast, please. To include meat products and caffeine.”

“Please specify.” The device appeared far less cooperative that it had for Phahlen.

“Bacon, and, and …”

“Try the eggs Benedict. I gather it’s a popular Earth delicacy.” Phahlen appeared behind her, the outer portal sliding closed at his rear.

“I wanted bacon. Am I allowed—?”

“That too.” He leaned past her to operate the food station. “We’ll have two portions of eggs Benedict. No, make that three. With bacon, mushrooms, and tomatoes. Fresh coffee too, with synthacream and sucrose substitute on the side.” He turned to face her, his smile lopsided. “I had some Terran nutritional data input into the system. If you have particular preferences just let me know and I’ll have those added too.”

“Thank you.” Caria’s mouth watered as the food crystallised before her. The aromas were every bit as appetising as the overall presentation. “Petros used to make a fabulous morning meal…” She paused, uncertain if she should mention her past life.

Phahlen merely smiled. “I shall endeavour to live up to his high standards. Shall we eat?”

The meal was companionable, a fact that Caria found nothing short of astounding. The Vahlean was pleasant, attentive, and she found him to be excellent company. He was happy to chat to her about Solarian literature, hoped she had slept well, and enquired after her general state of well-being. Caria was at a loss.

“I… I am fine, sir,” she managed at last. It was not entirely true, but neither did it seem too outlandish a claim. She was alive, pleasantly full, no part of her anatomy hurt unduly. Her captor seemed inclined to consider her comfort, and he could be kind when he chose to be. Her standards might have slipped in recent months, but yes, she was ready to settle for that.

Phahlen set aside his empty plate. He had not sampled any of the bacon, but ate some of the eggs and clearly enjoyed his coffee. Her own meal finished, Caria tugged the towel up around her breasts, conscious of her state of near nudity. Phahlen smiled at her, his eyes dipping to her cleavage.

“Lower the towel, please, Caria.”

“Sir…?” She gripped it tighter.

“I am about to fuck you, little human. Are we to make a fight of this?”

She gazed at him. His features bore no hint of threat, but she saw certainty of purpose there. She could plead with him, might even now attempt to make a run for it though there was nowhere to go. He would tolerate the pleading perhaps, and he would punish any attempt to escape. Ultimately the outcome would be the same. Caria swallowed, held his gaze, and relinquished her hold on the towel.

“Good girl.”

His approval warmed her, but only slightly. Apprehension coursed through Caria’s stiff body. She had had a couple of sexual partners prior to Petros, but would never describe herself as experienced. And no one of her acquaintance was even remotely similar to this male, either in stature or size. She didn’t know what to expect, but anticipated the worst.

“Your body is quite lovely, little human. Somewhat delicate, perhaps, though that is to be expected and I will make allowances. Please stand.”

Allowances? What might that mean? Caria got to her feet and stood before him, fighting the urge to cover herself.

“Come,” he commanded, as he stood also. He strode across the room toward the sleeping chamber, not looking back.

Caria followed him, and paused just inside the door. Phahlen was already tugging the tight tunic of his uniform over his head. The alien was impressive enough when clothed. The sight of his naked torso took Caria’s breath away. He glanced at her and straightened, allowing her ample time to look her fill.

“In the future, when you enter this room and I am present, you will drop to your knees and await my instructions.”

His announcement was delivered in a low, calm tone. Caria saw no cause to doubt his resolve. “Yes, sir,” she replied. She wondered if he meant for her to kneel now, and would have done so but his next instruction forestalled that.

“Lie across the bed, on your back with your bottom close to the edge. You will place your heels on the mattress and spread your thighs wide. And Caria,” his voice took on a warning tone, “this time I do mean as wide as you are able. Do not make me have to do it for you.”

It wouldn’t be that bad. She could manage this. The Vahlean seemed disinclined toward violence, and he was being kind to her, she supposed. He was attractive. No, he was more than that. He was handsome. Had they met in other circumstances, she might…

Fuck that. There was no ‘might’ about it. She would have been attracted to this man, though she could not imagine ever being unfaithful to Petros. But Petros was gone.

“Caria, do as I say or be ready to accept the consequences. If you need to be spanked again before I fuck
you, I’m happy to oblige.”

She glared at him, her momentary lapse of reason forgotten. The power here was all his, they both knew that. He had no need to threaten her. Caria’s brief mood of foolish acquiescence evaporated instantly. How could she have imagined this man to be in any way kind?

Chapter Five

Fuck, what an idiot!

Phahlen cursed his own bloody impatience. The little human was scared, understandably so. She hesitated, that was all, and she was entitled to. He shouldn’t have gotten so heavy with her. She would have obeyed him, and might even have done so with a degree of willingness. Not now.

He had seen the way her features froze, her eyes flashing with resentment when he’d offered to punish her again. Dominant to his core, control was his thing. Discipline went with it, punishment was a part of the package, but he was not usually in such a hurry to administer it. There was something about this feisty little earth girl that brought out his desire to impose his will over hers, by any means necessary.

Despite the scarcity of female partners on his home world, Phahlen had not lacked for opportunities to hone his skills as a dom. He travelled all the time, encountered females from other worlds on a daily basis, many of them with a sexuality compatible with his own. He had recently considered purchasing the services of a breeding mate; indeed, his negotiations with a female of the Astridix system were advanced and he had yet to inform her that the deal was off.

As he regarded the stiff, sullen girl now stretched out on the bed before him, he wondered if he ought to return her to Earth after all. There must be easier ways to produce the daughters his race required.

He dismissed that errant notion. He had started this thing, and he had brought Caria this far. However resentful she might be of her status here, the alternatives were worse. It wasn’t as though he could simply allow her to go free. Vahle had an extradition treaty with Earth and he would honour those obligations. No, the girl was officially in his custody, and the decision was his.

“Don’t move,” he instructed, and left her there. He issued his instructions into the housekeeping portal, and returned to his sleeping chamber a few par-beats later armed with the tools he needed.

His little Caria was a sensual being; that much had been obvious from her response to his treatment during her examination. Her responsive sensuality would serve them both well now.

He walked over to her and tossed the items onto the bed beside her, but Caria didn’t even turn her face to look at the things he brought. His gaze was drawn to the pink petals of her exposed pussy. He adored the smooth silkiness of her skin following the depilation yesterday, and longed to sink his cock into her tight, hot channel. Instead, he stood between her widespread legs and leaned over her, planting his hands on either side of her shoulders. Her unblinking stare met his. The girl had courage, he would allow her that.