Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Torin grins, trying to appear brave, but his sharp teeth do nothing to hide the nervousness that is absolutely clear in his eyes. His footsteps are hesitant and start to slow more the closer he gets to the dais where he is absolutely going to get his ass kicked.
I don’t know this young saurian at all. There is no reason for me to feel sorry for him — maybe he did something truly terrible on his little rampage. But I can’t help but identify with him. He is trying to put on a bold, strong front, but everybody can see how scared he is underneath the bravado. It seems to me he’s a victim of this society, this draconian hellscape in which punishment is carried out physically. I wish I could help him, but I can’t even help myself at this point.
Avel glances at me from the stage. It is a quick flicker of a look, but I feel it like liquid fire running through my soul. The chain holding me in place is unnecessary. I wouldn’t dare move even if there was absolutely nothing in place. I don’t know what about this has cowed me so completely, but the woman who dived off the edge of the ledge of his home is gone right now. In her place is a cowering female seeing the real nature of her mate.
Avel has never harmed me. I don’t think he would, but looking up at him from this oh-so-subordinate angle, I feel my pussy pulsing with… god, it can’t be arousal, can it? I can’t want him more as I find him more terrifying, can I? There’s something terribly fucked up with me. I always thought I wanted a proper, normal relationship. Man, woman, whatever, but normal. Equal. A meeting of minds and hearts and sharing life, and whatever the fuck else romance is supposed to be. Maybe I still want some of that, but right now? All I want is to be under the absolute monster on the dais.
My head is swimming with fantasies. I am imagining myself up there, displayed on that platform for all to see, treated without mercy. I want to know what it feels like to be treated like one of these criminal saurians. It’s a fucked up desire, and I’d never admit to it, but there’s some part of me that’s jealous of those who get to go up there. I’ve handled crew who just need a good thrashing to be brought in line. I’ve kicked more than a few asses in my day. There are plenty who fear me on the Mare. But I doubt they fear me the way I fear Avel right now.
The way I fear him right now is the way the sun fears the night. Or the desert fears the ocean. He seems like a force so overwhelming that I would not survive his presence. If I were to become his focus while he was as he is now, some part of me I have been holding onto for as long as I can remember would be obliterated.
“Stop,” Avel intones, telling Torin to halt before he can ascend the stairs. “Before you set foot up here with me, you will make an apology. I will take your contrition into account before you are punished.”
Is he showing Torin mercy? Is that hot? Or am I a little disappointed? Funny how I went from feeling sorry for this saurian to now wanting to see Avel in action where he is concerned.
“Sorry,” Torin says bluntly.
It’s not enough to impress Avel. If anything, it annoys him even more. I see the enforcer glower down at the unfortunate saurian, and I know that shit is about to go down in a serious way,
Avel extends a hand and crooks a finger at Torin, his expression taking on a certain anticipatory displeasure. Torin has given Avel a reason to really go off on him. I curl up on the chair and watch with bated breath.
Torin puts a foot on the lowest stair before losing his nerve. He swivels and makes a break for it, dashing back down the aisle. He is making for the doors at high speed, and he’d probably escape if not for the fact that they are clearly very well prepared for this eventuality. Two guards — saurians I did not see before this moment — step out from the bone-cast shadows to intercept him.
Torin is grabbed up between two burly saurian guards who start dragging him back down the aisle toward Avel. At that point, he loses his composure completely. He starts fighting and shouting, begging, really, as he is inexorably carried to his destiny.
“No! Please! God! No! I’ll do anything! I’m sorry! I’ll make amends for the rest of my life! Just don’t let him touch me! Please!”