Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 42861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42861 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
He pulls out of my tight hole with a final grunt and gives my ass one final slap.
“You stay there,” he says. “Stay bent over the bed, dripping my seed, and think about what you have done, and what you were trying to do. Move, and I will use a leather lash on you.”
I don’t think he’s playing, and I don’t have the nerve to test him right now. He’s taken me to a point of surrender, if not quite submission.
I do as I am told. I stay where he told me to stay. I let him have the satisfaction of having had an impact on me. And I ache. And I feel a certain kind of guilt that only sinks in after orgasm. The guilt that asks me what the hell I was thinking. I was so desperate to fulfill what I thought was my mission I was ready to go murder my way across an alien landscape, not to be free, but to show everyone that I cannot be kept down.
Here. Now. In Gruff’s cozy home, shamed and stripped, and spanked and fucked, I feel a kind of peace I haven’t felt before. I’ve tasted it before, from time to time. It’s what lives on the other side of my taste for gleeful disobedience. But every time I indulged that on Earth, I only ended up pushing people away. They started to hate me after a time, and they must have hated me to send me so far away to such a terrible place with so little protection. I pushed and I pushed, I railed and I disobeyed until finally someone somewhere in this big universe finally taught me a lesson.
It is not that uncomfortable where I am. I find my eyelids getting heavy. I am emotionally and physically exhausted. I was tired from my journey to my dome, and then Gruff whipped every last bit of brat energy out of me.
When I wake up, I am no longer in position. I am lying on the bed with a blanket over me, and a pillow under my head. Gruff must have found me asleep and instead of waking me up with a harsh slap for disobeying him, he put me to bed. A wash of tenderness flows over me. He looked after me even though I disobeyed him, even though I basically tried to betray him according to his perspective. He thinks I am his mate, and though I haven’t taken that mantle on myself, I know he must consider me wayward, if not outright unfaithful.
Gruff might be the first to look after me in spite of my difficulty. This blanket and pillow tell me he is not rejecting me. He may take some pleasure in punishing me, but I suppose I need someone who enjoys the struggle.
“Hello, brat,” he greets me in his rough voice. “Sleep well?”
“How long was I asleep?” Opening my eyes does not hurt but moving does. The motion of my ass beneath the blanket is enough to reignite the ache of his punishment. I can only imagine what will happen to me if I try to sit down.
“You slept the entire dark cycle.”
“I did? Fuck!” I scramble up, and discover that yes, sitting on a very well spanked ass, even for a second, hurts like hell. “Fuck!” I curse again, bouncing up from the bed with my hands to my rear.
“What’s the hurry, human?” Gruff is leaning against the door, watching me with a very particular expression on his face. I realize in that moment that the interrogation is not over. My thoughts immediately went to the boy I found in my dome. He must have been waiting for almost a full Earth day. I hope he hasn’t given up hope. I really wanted to help him.
“Uhm. I’ve just been asleep for…” I stop talking as he straightens and walks toward me with a this is not a good time to lie to me, little human, expression on his face.
“Do you want to know what I think you’ve been doing?”
“Sure.” That question saves me from having to lie. I don’t like lying to him. I don’t even like disappointing him. He’s getting under my skin, little by little.
“I think you were going to run away, because you’re a brat and much like your little Strumpet, you do whatever appeals to you. I think you’re generally bored here, and you haven’t listened to a word I’ve said over the last few weeks. And I think there’s a reason you were going through my drawers and holding my pants. So.” He pauses and asks a question that scares me to my core. “Where is he?”
“Where is who?” Fuck, Gruff is good. I mean, detective good. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I’m lying. I don’t want to be lying, but I do it almost reflexively now. He makes me feel like I’m in the most trouble I’ve ever been in my life. Gruff says nothing. He just nails me with that look, the one that makes me physically squirm in front of him, back and forth, trying to think of how I can tell him, or not tell him.