Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
For once, my alien master does not seem to be interested in my arousal. I am getting soaked, but he doesn’t so much as make a murmur about it. I crave the touch of his hand, or hell, any part of him between my thighs, but instead all I get are the increasingly stern slaps of the large flat of his palm that somehow seem to cover more and more space every time.
I feel like I have been bad. More than bad, I feel like I have let him down. I feel small and I feel guilty and I feel sore. I don’t want to cry. Fuck. I think he’s going to make me cry.
Cir snugs me closer against his belly and I feel the strength of him, his incredible alien physicality turning me on all the more. I am reaching a point of no return. I’m either going to come, or I am going to cry. Cir has no intention of letting me come, and so with the next flurry of hard spanks, I start to cry. Softly at first, trying to hide it from him, but the longer the spanking goes, the harder I cry, until I am simply sobbing over his lap.
I don’t expect mercy from Cir. I don’t expect understanding either. I know I deserve to be punished, worse than I currently am being disciplined. He should be taking a cane to me, or something made of cruel leather. I feel as though I deserve to be beaten to within an inch of my existence, but Cir is not that kind of sadist.
“Alright,” he says. “I can see you’re not going to learn any kind of lesson with this, and I have no intention of breaking you, no matter how much you deserve to be broken.”
Sometimes it’s like he’s reading my fucking mind.
The spanking is over for now. I am pulled up from his lap and held in it instead. It is not easy to find a way to sit that doesn’t hurt, and in the end I have to settle for perching somewhat on the side of my hip and thigh, leaning into the sheltering body of the big alien who just made me so sore.
“To answer your question,” he says, cradling me as I sob. “The humans we removed from your planet will never return to it. You need not fear whoever it is that makes you so wide-eyed and afraid.”’
“Good,” I mumble. It doesn’t really answer the question, but I guess I didn’t answer his either.
Cir puts me to bed, tucking the sheets in around me. Then he turns to leave. No sex for me tonight. Just a spanking and bed. I feel about as small and naughty as it is possible to feel right now.
“Cir?”
“Yes?” He pauses at the door.
“Are you mad at me?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not mad at you, Jessica. I’m sad that you don’t feel you can trust me.”
“Oh no! Don’t be sad. Be mad. Get angry at me. Call me names or something.”
“Is that what the man before me did? The one who was sucked up into oblivion? Did he call you names?”
“God, he almost killed me.” I laugh. “I mean, yes, he called me names too, but…” And fuck. Just like that, I’ve said too much. It just came tumbling out of me, propelled by some twisted, perverse need to tell him. He is making me feel guilty as sin, and I don’t like the feeling.
Cir’s face has gone absolutely serious. So serious I can barely stand to look at it.
“He did what?”
“It was a long time ago.” That’s a lie. “It wasn’t that bad.” Another lie. “I deserved it.” I’m not sure if that’s a lie or not. Rick always thought I deserved everything I got from him, but he also thought everything was my fault.
“Get some sleep,” he says to me. “I will see you tomorrow morning.”
I want to call out to him and ask him to come back, but I let him go. I don’t know what I’d do with him even if he did return. I’d probably keep blowing my cover and sharing bits of myself that shouldn’t be shared.
Cir
I have a man to find. I tell myself it is a clue to Jessica’s past, but in truth this is a mission of vengeance.
The humans we sucked up from the planet are in containment. It’s somewhat like prison, but it’s more like being frozen and atomically reprogrammed. They are stored in sliding cryo-chambers which are really nothing more than hanging plastic bags full of blue suspension liquid. A machine runs them along a rail when I start to search.
I know the man has to be from New York. Ninety percent of the people taken in the rapture were male. I know what region of the city she came from, and therefore I have some idea where he is. I flick through the people closet, trying to discern which of these humans is responsible for making her have that expression in her eyes.