Page 37 of Condemned

Chapter Fifteen

Avalon, having beenlaid over Takk’s saddle and strapped down, was taken to the barn. They led her inside and pulled off her clothes. She was left tied, with only an itchy florse blanket wrapped around her. Her hands were linked to another stake in the dirt floor. If the ride was meant to show her how uncomfortable it would be to be transported in that way, she had it figured. Her stomach still ached. She’d almost thrown up at some of the bigger bumps and Takk hadn’t been driving his florse hard.

They brought all the florses in, fed them, groomed them, closed the double barn doors and then, only then, did they come to her.

By that time, she was fully annoyed, tired, and cold, because the wind had been blowing in through the open doors and her knees were hurting. The chain-rope-spike arrangement was too short to allow her to stand.

Around the walls of the barn were pieces of machinery, some rusted, some newer. It looked as if the owner had a small hobby making tech on the side. Lots of people did it. All the weaponry anyone carried was homemade, since the ancient factories were dust and rust, mangled bits, and blown-out walls. This was why Timin was an artist as much as a mechanic or gunsmith. Few weapons interchanged parts easily. If something was a micron off in measurement, then part A often refused to talk to part B.

Timin.Avalon twisted her mouth, thinking of that mauleon. Of them all he was the least fair.

She was angry at herself for not shooting him. Angry because they thought to punish her for something she should have done if she were practical. Angry for getting caught. Angry for letting herself get angry over that too.

Oh, my.

Calm the fuck down.

Still fuming, she watched his boots as Takk came to a halt before her. The others had settled their butts on the bales of hay to the left and right.

“You have no right to judge me.”

“I do. I essentially bought you when you agreed to be ours until Omage.”

True or not? “I don’t consider it that way.”

“Too late. It’s done.”

“I’m still not a soldier of yours. Punishing me does nothing.”

“You think so?” Takk answered as calmly as she knew she should be. The bastard.

“I know so. You discipline soldiers, whip them, whatever, to show others the bad things that happen if they rebel. Carrot and stick. You reward them for being good. You break them down until they only know how to be a soldier.”

He nodded.

“I’m not one. What use is making an example of me? They won’t learn anything.”

“But you will.”

“I... I will fight you until Omage. Or until I get loose from you. Oops, given that away.” As if it wasn’t obvious already. Teeth set, she glared at him and the others.

“You are...” He waggled his head. “Smart but stupid too. There is one thing this will do.”

She waited, feeling less certain. What was he aiming at?

“It will reward them.” He waved a hand at the others. “Amuse them on a cold boring night. Zo! You like beating your females. Do something fun with her.” At those words, Zo hopped from his bale, gesturing to Kondio to follow him. “Give us all something to jerk off to. Tomorrow, girl, you’ll be riding with less freedom, and maybe something up your ass.”

Oh.She clamped her lips together, wishing she had a reply to flatten him. That gun was definitely a lost opportunity.

“At your command, sir.” The swagger in Zo’s walk was infuriating and worrying. In one hand he carried a bundle of long, thin sticks and he touched the tips to the floor, drawing a trail, stirring up dust. That Kondio followed him out to the center of the barn was even more worrying. What was Zo planning?

Being whipped bloody was a possibility. Being fucked after that was almost a given from the way a mysterious something tented the inside of Zo’s pants.

Days, it’d been days since what he’d done to her at the stream.

Being fucked in front of these others should scare her as much as the prospect of whipping. Except, embarrassingly, between her legs was warming and swelling. The creeping tingle of arousal was obvious. Not now! She bit the inside of her lip to distract herself.

If she could’ve forced that to go away, she would’ve. Pretending, though, was possible.