Taken and Mated Page 7

  Her chest felt cold, her skin prickled. “Wh-what?” she managed to say. “How does what make me feel?”

  And then, seeing something gleam in his eyes, she added quickly, “Sir?”

  His hand, which had been suspended over the table, floated slowly down to the instruments and his fingers closed around a black handle.

  “How does it make you feel, Atrix 12, when I tell you that because you are a very, very poorly behaved young woman, you will need to be disciplined?”

  As he spoke, he stepped nearer to her, and she dared not look at what was in his hand. Her chest constricted, but she could tell that what gripped her was not so much fear as something else, a fluttering, exciting, perhaps even thrilling sensation that coursed through her blood.

  She refused to answer him for a moment. The thought bubbled up in her mind: he could make her submit in almost any physical way, but he was not going to get a real answer from her about how she felt. She thought about lying to him, making something up. Then she thought that her silence would be perceived as defiance, and she didn’t want that, because she still had sights on escaping this place—wherever it was.

  The truth? She didn’t want to admit it to herself. How did it make her feel? Delicious, in a way.

  But she wouldn’t tell him that.

  She’d cooperate.

  Her way.

  “I... I...” she stuttered theatrically. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a bad girl. I don’t want to be disciplined.”

  The trainer’s lips turned up in a smile as he walked around her, to stand behind her. The air between them sizzled with tension, and he let her stand there, wondering what would happen, before reaching around her body to push upward on the cuffs binding her wrists. The cuffs levitated slowly, and took her arms with them, until she was on her tiptoes. The magnetic cuffs stopped there, as if they were suspended by something. Lana suspected it was a magnetic force that held her there.

  She dropped her heels, and her body sagged, pressure building on her wrists. But she was able to take most of the weight off by standing on her heels.

  The condition of her wrists and the cuffs became of very little importance quite suddenly, however, as the commander’s hand was slipping between her buttocks, and his hot fingers were making circles around her hole. Her eyes went wide with alarm, but she had learned not to say anything.

  Nervous flutters twisted in her stomach as a silence ensued, during which time the commander played with the tender eyelet of her bottom, and then slipped a large, cold sphere between her ass cheeks, pressed against the small hole. The cold sensation sent a ripple of pleasure through her, even as she processed the situation inside her mind.

  This was a punishment.

  The sphere against her bottom was going to be inside of her, cold and hard.

  And then what?

  But it all became clear without the commander ever explaining it. He pushed the cold sphere harder against her ass, and the same sharp pain that had accompanied her first anal treatments made her tip her head back and gasp. The sharpness faded quickly, however, and the cold, hard metal of the sphere filled her and stretched her.

  She tipped her head forward again and kept her eyes closed. Not bad, she thought. The ball felt—

  There was a tug, and suddenly the ball was being pulled up, a long metal shape against her spine, the fullness of the ball pushing downward on her hole too much pressure to bear. The sharp pain returned, and she rose up on her tiptoes to stop it.

  The cold relief of the ball sinking deeper into her ass again returned.

  And that was when, as the commander strolled around her, smiling, she realized the predicament she was in.

  She would have to stand on her tiptoes, with her arms above her, or she would sink.

  And if she sank, the pressure of the ball would stretch her bottom open to the widest point, and the sharp ache would return, while the cool relief disappeared.

  Her ankles and arms began to burn.

  Her heart thumped faster.

  “You can’t... you can’t leave me like this!” she gasped.

  And this was the most genuine thing she had said so far, but the commander, obviously on to her tricks, only smiled and left the room.

  After he left, the full predicament she was in became visible to Lana at once: without knowing when the commander would return, the weight of her body seemed to triple, and her calves began to strain, almost as if she had been standing there for hours longer than she actually had. She closed her eyes and tried to keep herself from panicking.

  After all, what was the worst that could happen?

  She took a calming breath, and let her heels sink slowly to the floor. As she did, the heaviness of the sphere inside of her felt as though it were being pulled out, slowly spreading her open and making her full at the same time. But the sphere only stretched out, as if it would leave her body, and when her heels touched the floor, she realized the trick of the contraption: it would never be possible to push it out completely.

  She rested for a moment, her weight on the floor and the sphere, warmer now from her body heat, pushing against her hole until she could no longer tolerate the sensation. It wasn’t painful as much as it was achingly pleasant—too achy, and too pleasant, to be tolerated for long.

  Her calves groaned as she rose to her tiptoes again, and the weight in her bottom shifted, and the sphere rolled over something inside of her that made her legs shake in agonizing pleasure. She stood on her toes, recovering from the sensation, panting and sweating with the effort. Her legs began to scream at her, and her feet started to cramp.

  She moaned as she lowered her weight to the floor, and squirmed as the anal hook slid down her spine, and the sphere pulled her open and settled heavily inside of her. She looked up at her wrists, and tried to be still, but the sensation was too much. She squirmed, and the ball shifted again.

  “Oh, God,” she moaned, and even she was uncertain if she was crying out in pleasure or agony.

  Her eyes watered. She was getting wet again, and the rush of humiliation she was almost becoming accustomed to flooded over her. Her body desperately wanted to feel the sphere tucked deep inside of her again, but her legs were quivering already, and she was sweating with the strain of the endurance it required to stay either down or up.

  How long would the commander leave her here like this?

  She rose to her toes, and gave a yell as she was subjected to the excruciating pleasure of the hook again. She could move like this forever, and she would never feel any relief; not of the pain in her legs, the delectable fire building inside of her, or from the alternating torture of the hook itself.

  She could be here for hours.

  Days, even. Who knew how twisted this commander was?

  She cried out again and lowered herself to the floor.

  * * *

  She would never know how long she was there, or that the commander was watching her from the adjoining room, secretly pleased with her resilience. He had been given many slaves to train, and even an Atrix, but none had been quite as stubborn and strong-willed as this one.

  It was a pleasure to train such a spirited girl; ordinarily, he would have taken his time and savored the job a little more. He would not have jumped immediately to the anal hook, but instead he would have let her learn, from her constant rule-breaking and subsequent discipline, that her body craved discipline. He would have been well-rewarded for turning over an utterly submissive Atrix to the Phalgrons. But he was limited by time, and so this one had to be dealt with harshly, and perhaps incompletely. He was not hopeful that she would be utterly trained, and aware of her own submissive tendencies, in time for her transfer.

  But he would get her as close as he could.

  He watched her as she panted and strained to rise and then lower herself slowly onto the floor. Hours had gone by, and she was exhausted, juices of excitement rolling down her thighs, hair clinging to her skin, which shone with a sheen of sweat. Each time she
lowered herself to the floor she slipped a little more, losing to fatigue the control that allowed her to avoid the most punishing of the effects of the anal hook.

  Any moment now, he thought.

  But she lasted for almost another hour, until at last, lifting her head and looking at the ceiling, she began her supplication.

  “Please,” she moaned. “I can’t anymore. Please, please. Please let me down.”

  The commander smiled and returned to the room.

  * * *

  His fingers felt cool against her skin as he swiped her hair from her face and tilted her chin up to him. She was hanging by her wrists, her knees so wobbly that she had to work to stand upright, and not slip to hanging, which caused the hook to strain against her sore bottom. It was not that she was in pain, though her calves were hot and tired from their efforts; it was that she simply could no longer bear the stimulation. Now that she was tired and worn out, she shifted position frequently, unable to hold herself up for long and unable to bear the stimulation of sagging. The process had driven her wild.

  She didn’t want to, but she began to beg for help.

  And the commander had come.

  “Lana,” he intoned, using her given name and sending a swirl of strange emotions through her chest.

  She looked at him. She was panting lightly. “Please,” she whispered. “I can’t take any more. Please, let me down.”

  He brushed his fingers over her lips, and then trailed them down her body.

  “Do you know why I am training you?” he asked her, and she started to moan as she shifted her body again. She was exasperated; she needed relief, and he was clearly not going to give it to her.

  “I am training you to be submissive, and to be a good Atrix.” He drew his finger closer to her pussy, and Lana shivered, her body crying out for him to touch her there, just one slight touch would be all she needed to go over the edge. She had never felt a need so intense in her life. It drowned out any pain, any tiredness. She could only think of his finger, nearing her clit, so close that if she just moved a little...

  She edged closer to him, trying to move her body against his hand.

  But the commander was far too quick.

  “Please,” Lana moaned. She could hear her own voice, the pleading in it, and thought about how it should have brought with it a wave of humiliation, but did not. She didn’t care what he wanted, if only he would stop this torture, either by relieving her with his touch, or letting her down.

  “In order to be sufficiently submissive for your mate, who has been chosen, you will have to give yourself up completely. Now, I think you are thinking mostly of yourself, Lana. I am not convinced you have learned your lesson.”

  “No, no, wait!” Lana pleaded. “I have, I have learned my lesson, I promise I have. Please. Please.”

  The commander looked at her for a few moments, and then smiled.

  “I think you can use just a little more reflection.”

  And he turned to exit the room.

  * * *

  The commander did not return for her for what felt like an eternity, during which time Lana only grew more desperate for relief, and more exhausted. She screamed and cried, and threw her body around for a bit, rubbing her legs together in a futile attempt to rub herself to climax and at least knock out the torturous need inside of her.

  But then, she reached some kind of breaking point, too tired to lift herself, too tired to fight against the solid, filling, pleasurably agonizing fullness pressing down on her ass. She hung her head and let her body be subjected to the torture.

  Submitting, at last.

  The commander returned, and she remained as she was, the lesson of the exercise slowly dawning on her.

  “Have you learned your lesson, Atrix?” the commander asked, without touching her.

  Lana nodded, her eyes on the floor. “Yes, sir.”

  “What else?”

  “Thank you, sir. I am very sorry I was so bad but thank you for disciplining me.”

  The weights, as if they were connected to the commander’s mind, released, and Lana fell to the floor on her hands and knees. The pressure of the anal hook abated, and she squirmed in discomfort at the emptiness she felt.

  The commander stood behind her. She had a vision of herself, on her hands and knees, submitting to the iron will of her trainer, but it did not infuriate her as much as it made her pussy ache even more.

  “What do you want now, Lana?”

  She panted, and thought quickly, sure that this was test of some kind. What would he want her to say? Whatever it was, she had better think of it quickly, and she had better make it sound real, because if she didn’t, she was sure that she would be hanging again from the ceiling.

  Her body shivered, half in pleasure, half in fear.

  “I want...” she panted.

  She wanted relief.

  She wanted him, or anyone, to touch her and burst the dam inside of her body.

  But like lightning, the answer flashed in her mind.

  “I want to do whatever you tell me,” she pleaded.

  And waited.

  A table rose from the floor in front of her, and the commander told her to stand and bend over it. She leaned her body over the table, the cool surface making her shiver. She placed her hands, palms down, against the table, because she wanted to show him her utter submission.

  The commander placed a hand on her lower back, and slowly pulled the sphere from inside of her, as she stared ahead and let her mouth open to absorb the painful stimulus of the sphere leaving her ass.

  An emptiness gripped her, and her pussy throbbed hopefully. She needed relief desperately, so much so that she closed her eyes and began to wish for it—pray for it, even—silently.

  She felt the commander’s fingers making a circle around her eyelet, feeling its taut, stretched rim. She couldn’t help the twitch in her arm, the shudder of her body. She would have given anything to feel the commander’s cock against her pussy, and then inside of her, finally pressing against her clit and driving the need inside of her away.

  But she was beginning to sense, even through the fog of her need, that the challenge to all of this would be to convince her trainer that she was submissive. Utterly submissive. She would need for him to believe her, and she would need to be convincing.

  Her chest went cold and then hot as she thought of what she would have to do.

  She waited, still, as he slipped his finger between her folds and very slowly touched her clit with the pad of a finger. He didn’t stroke her, but the pressure of his skin alone was enough to make her legs tremble and her abdomen roll tightly. She was so close.

  She restrained herself, her need almost suffocating her.

  The commander’s hand withdrew, and the ache, unsatisfied, returned with the force of being slammed against a wall.

  “That was the right answer,” he told her. “Stand up.”

  Shaking, her pussy throbbing, Lana pushed herself from the table, and rose to standing, though her legs were weak and clumsy and her knees shook together. The wetness from her pussy had snaked down her thighs to meet stickily at her knees. Low in her abdomen, her body screamed for release.

  She felt the commander’s hands move, as if synchronized, with the invisible force of the wrist restraints, pulling her wrists together. They then bent her arm at the elbow and locked into place behind her, just above her tailbone and only a flutter away from her aching bottom. With futility, and without realizing what she was doing, she stretched her fingers to see if they could reach her wet slit, and maybe, once she was alone...

  She realized what she was doing and pulled her fingers back to make fists. But she could tell from the puff of air that the commander released from his mouth, as he pulled her back against his body, that he had seen her indiscretion. He said nothing, only let the heat of his breath travel delectably over her neck. “Your punishment is not over, Atrix 12,” he pronounced, and the vibration of his voice against her skin made he
r body flare up again with hope, and then crash with disappointment. “You will remain in your quarters and obey your orders, to prove that your submission is real. I do not need to tell you that if you are disobedient, your discipline will be far more difficult to endure than what has happened here.”

  A tremor passed through her body, and Lana let her breath escape in desperation.

  The commander guided her back to her room, pushing her gently along the corridor to her quarters, and then into her room. “Lie down on your bed,” the commander said softly. “Down, on your knees, with your ass in the air.”

  A wave of humiliation rushed over her as she took up the position he wanted. Her bare bottom, and all of the telltale sticky juices, was in the air, her cheek pressed to the bed and her hands locked behind her, at her lower back. She was exposed, completely, the truth of her body’s needs dripping down her legs, her ass gaping and pulsing closed.

  She felt the cool tip of a plug against her sensitive, swollen rim. When he pushed it inside of her, her body convulsed with a delightful pulse, and the desire to satiate her cravings became so intense that she was sure she saw stars. She mewled and wiggled involuntarily, the heavy plug rubbing just enough inside of her to make her pussy throb in expectation.

  But she closed her eyes, and turned her face to the bed to bite on the fabric covering it. She knew what the remainder of her punishment would be, even before the commander explained it to her. She would be left like this until he returned for her, and there would be no relief for her.

  And if she wanted to make the commander believe that she had submitted, then she would have to endure this cruel torture as long as he wanted her to.

  She felt the ankle restraints grown heavy, locked by their peculiar mechanism to the bed, slightly spread, her pussy juices trickling down her thighs.

  “I expect that you will be much more cooperative when your training begins again tomorrow.”

  His hand rested on her sore bottom, and the heat of it ignited her sore skin. “You have no choice, Lana, but to accept your destiny. Remember that bad girls receive discipline...” his hand traveled to her slit, and briefly brushed over her clit, “but good girls receive rewards. You must give yourself over to punishment, and recognize that you are born to be submissive, and obey. When you give yourself completely over to your role as a submissive, you will feel the relief that you crave.”