Page 13 of Leashed


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Somewhere in the room, someone makes a faint utterance of surprise. This is now a complete debacle.

If this were a movie, I’d slide down the table, out the doors and forward somersault to freedom. But this is real, and friction means I slide about five feet before coming to a halt more or less inside what used to be a cream cake.

There’s silence when I stop, a complete and utter absence of sound broken only by the muffled gasps of Melinda who is trying her very best not to laugh out loud at my misfortune.

The alien who had the misfortune to buy me picks me up off the table, two hands gripping the back of my garment. He is harried and embarrassed. I’m fortunate these aliens aren’t given to violence very often. If they were, I know he’d be beating my ass. Instead, he’s far too worried about himself. I am carried out of the gathering in the custody of the alien who has purchased my very life, no closer to freedom than I was when I began.

Back at Arkan’s house…

I’m starting to think that Arkan and his family are what we used to called old money, back on Earth. Before the rebellion of 202-whatever, when all the billionaires were summarily, let’s just say, eaten. Some of what happened to them was better. A lot of it was worse.

“I’m going to open the cage,” he says, his eyes flashing with alien warning. “When I do, I’m going to put a leash on you. If you make this hard for me, I will punish you again, and I can promise you it will not feel any better the second time around.”

I resolve then and there to bite his hand the second he puts it into my cage. I intend to make this more than hard for him. I am going to make this absolutely impossible for him.

Sure enough, the door of the crate opens, just a crack, enough for him to reach for me. Without hesitation, I latch onto his hand and I bite down hard.

I hear him grunt in pain.

He scruffs me by the back of the neck and hauls me out. I curse him with every foul word I have and some that aren’t even coherent sounds.

“You have to make everything difficult, don’t you,” he rumbles, holding onto me with one hand, and shaking the one I bit. I don’t think I broke the scales, but I definitely left a mark of some kind. I feel quite proud of myself for having made an impact on this powerful, fanged creature who has made me a commodity.

He really thought he’d broken me of my bite with the punishment in the pet store. I can see the surprise in his face. He’s shocked that his little spanking and his soap treatment didn’t make a lasting difference. This guy has dealt with people who break easy. I don’t.

Crouched on the deck of the back of his transport, I struggle against his grip. It might not free me, but it is symbolic. I will not give in. Not as long as I have strength in me to fight.

Something catches my eye in my peripheral vision. It is the flash of water from a fountain of the kind that spurts water everywhere. I look around, and the surprise of the entirety of our location stops my struggles as I give into surprise. We are out the front of a huge, classically-designed alien mansion. It is built from big rocks cut square and stacked…. I’m not an architect. It’s a fucking mansion, what do you want?

“So this is what you get for selling people, huh? Doing really well for yourself, I see.”

“This has been in my family for a thousand years. It is our ancestral home.”

“Sure. Sure. Old money. Nice for some.”

I guess he hasn’t heard what humans do to billionaires once they get sick of them. I look at that big, fancy house, and I wonder how much I could steal from it and actually get back to Earth. I bet he has some really nice things in there.

This is wild. I find myself on a distant alien estate and in the company of what appears to be landed alien gentry. Their weird, fancy, sprawling hyper-connected, almost neuronal city now seems like the artifice it is compared to this place, which is solid and timeless and real. Real the way a sunrise is, and the way an email is not.

SMACK

“OW!”

I let out a scream as Arkan’s palm meets my ass in a hard slap. I should have expected that. He warned me. He more than warned me. I know I’m in a whole lot of trouble again — but I got distracted by the house. I thought I was better than to be impressed by material things, but there’s something about an ancestral mansion that appeals to my DNA in ways I can’t explain.

“You are going to be whipped and soaped until you beg for mercy,” Arkan growls at me, thoroughly displeased, I think more with himself than with me. He must fancy himself quite the pet trainer. I am ruining his self-perception. If he is anything like most men, that’s a sin far worse than biting.

Being carried and simultaneously spanked over the threshold of that alien mansion is something else. The foyer is elegantly carved with images of what I suppose must be Arkan’s ancestors. I see images of animals that have no equal on Earth. Great beasts with fang and wing and claw, all rampant and fierce. It’s the sort of decoration you get in a building where strength and power are valued.

I’d love to observe them more carefully, but a fire is being built in my rear that ignites the spanking he gave me before we left. I know other humans learn this way, but I refuse to learn from my mistakes. Every time his palm lands on my ass, a fresh bolt of heat and regret which I promptly deny rushes through me.

“You’re a bad girl,” he growls, his tone heavy with disapproval. “You’ve been very badly behaved, and that is over now. I will not tolerate any human disobedience. You may one day learn that there are rewards for being tame. There are also consequences for being wild.”

We have now passed through the foyer and have entered whatever big fucking room you call the big fucking room beyond it. It’s like Grand Central Station, but for a handful of aliens rather than an entire city. There are open door frames that lead into rooms off this main space, and a great, grand staircase that sweeps up the center and then wiggle-waggles in all directions. Sort of like a tree, I guess.

I’m having trouble taking this all in, because he’s still spanking me very hard, and now he’s going for my outfit, which is being torn from my body by his big, scaled hands. He is impatient with it, not bothering to find snaps or fasteners, simply yanking at it until it gives way and falls from my squirming body.

When he has me naked, he props one foot up on the lowest rung of the great many stairs and proceeds to put me over his thigh. My hips become a treacherous fulcrum and my ass is treated to a flurry of sharp slaps that make me wail for mercy I will not receive, and I would not accept.

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