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“I know. Why aren’t you killing me? Why did you sleep with me? You’ve had female bounties before. You kill them more cleanly than you kill males, but you still kill them…” The questions are pouring from me in a torrent of confusion.
He knows something that I don’t. He has a secret he is not telling me. Of course, there’re a thousand secrets he isn’t telling me. He is korabi, and he does not answer to a human.
“Instead of questioning me, you should be questioning yourself.”
“I have no idea what that means.”
He smirks, a sharp upper row of teeth flashing in limited amusement. “You have not used your cognitive faculties in a long time. Try to think instead of asking questions.”
“How am I supposed to think when I don’t know what to think?”
He laughs, a rough, booming sound. “Oh, you poor thing.”
I do not want his pity, and I do not think I truly have it. I think he is toying with me. I think he is a predator with prey he is not quite ready to dispatch for whatever reason. It is so strange, existing in this twilight world where I am both alive and not alive, in love, and not in love.
I sit down nearby and wrap my arms around my knees, protecting myself both from the horror of my situation and the powerfully confusing feelings Rath arouses in me.
“Come here.”
“Why?”
He does not answer at first. He simply grabs me and draws me close.
“I need to punish you for locking me in with my augmentations. That,” he draws in a breath and intones the next words even more deeply. “Was naughty.”
Naughty. What a word. It is not one I have heard in common use, and yet it sends a thrill shooting to the very core of me.
To Rath, I am many things. I am a criminal. I am his bounty. I am a fugitive from the authority. And now, it seems, I am naughty. What a familiar, intimate term.
“I took your augmentations, but there are other ways to return the favor,” he reveals. “The human body has several similar weaknesses which are available to exploit.”
He is handling me easily, his massive hands stretching over my body, his claws extended just a little. Enough to allow me to feel the power and danger of his touch, as if I could forget.
His palm extends over my rear, the twin ridges of my ass both covered by his large hand.
He strikes me. Not hard enough to damage me, but with a strength calculated to make my skin sting. I yelp in fear at first, but as he repeats the treatment, I find myself sinking into it. It hurts, after a fashion, but more than hurting, it makes me feel a whole host of feelings I did not expect. Every time he slaps me in that terribly intimate way I am jolted against him, my face flushing with extreme heat. I am embarrassed. What an odd feeling. It makes me small and squirmy. It gives me an odd heat which travels all the way from the pit of my stomach, to my face, then back down my spine to my toes, and up all the way to the very roots of my hair.
“This is a spanking,” he tells me. “This is an ancient means of controlling wayward, disobedient human women.”
His words intensify all those feelings which began to race through me the moment his palm first impacted my rear. This is worse than what I did to him. I shut him down so he couldn’t chase me and kill me. He is not shutting me down. He is turning me on. He is making my senses sing and igniting that familiar spark between my thighs.
He swipes a finger down the seam of my lower lips. They are still sensitive from being spread around his alien rod as we floated down the river. He was so large, so intensely domineering. My arousal made it easier to take him at the time, but now I emit a helpless whimper.
“Are you sore?”
“Yes,” I admit, not knowing if that admission will help me or not. I know this is part of his plan for me. It is more complex than the way he handles most, but I am an elite and I taunted him. I deserve more punishment, and I am getting it.
He returns to his task of spanking me, his large, harsh palm landing at least two dozen more times. Heat builds in my ass. My pussy quivers. My hips buck in the futile attempt to evade punishment, but there is never any evading Rath.
I feel heat on my face, an odd watery sensation. I am leaking! That makes me panic far more than the spanking itself is. If he is doing real damage, I may never recover from it.
