To them, I’d instantly become just another conquest in a seemingly endless line of beautiful women that the Aurelians have claimed the innocence of, and then discarded.
I squeeze shut my eyes and take a deep, shuddering breath.
“Sir…”
…and then, suddenly, I hear my own voice speak somebody else’s words:
“…if you think that would help me be a better maid, then I will consent to it.”
What?
The words had exited my mouth before I could even register them, let alone stop them. It’s as if they came straight from my wicked, tortured, lust-crazed mind – straight from the base of my being. Gods, who am I kidding?
Straight from between my thighs.
I can’t believe I said those words. It’s like I’m hearing another woman speaking – some dirty, eager little slut who aches to be spanked by that huge, dominant Aurelian – while two others watch with wide eyes and swollen cocks.
But it’s not another woman – it’s me.
I’m that slut.
Even looking down, I can see Cyrus licking his lips. He knows the game he’s playing, and he’s wondering which one of us will break first.
It feels like my life is suddenly balanced on a tipping point, and what I do right now could irrevocably change the path of it for the rest of my life.
I could walk away right now.
I could drop everything, turn, and run down the hallway… Change out of this seductive costume and back into my drab, dirty and normal clothes.
I could leave. I could just run. I could abandon Cyrus, Varian and, Gallus and flee – snatching those precious, unprotected watches on my way out…
…but, somehow, I know I’m not going to.
“Come here.”
Cyrus says the words slowly, his deep voice achingly precise as he gives me the order. My legs suddenly jerk forward, before I can even process my thoughts. It’s like he’s controlling me using his words alone…
How is that possible? Could Aurelians control your body? It can’t be so!
And yet, I nevertheless step towards him – my mouth dry and my body trembling. Every cell inside me is crackling with electricity – the tension building inexorably. If any of the Aurelians are equally nervous, though, they don’t show it. All three of the huge, marble-skinned men sit in their wooden thrones like the statues I’d seen earlier, in the room that redheaded beauty had berated me in. Once more, I’m struck by the similarity between those millennia-old sculptures and the real, living, breathing creatures towering in front of me right now.
My feet carry me forward, and I let them. I keep my eyes low, instinctively adopting a submissive posture, but I can still see the mirrored tension in their bodies as they study me.
Together, the three of them are like huge, hungry jaguars; still and poised in the moment just before they pounce on their unsuspecting prey.
In the jungle, though, the victim of a predator is unwitting.
I have no such excuse. They aren’t taking me by surprise. I’m going to them.
Another step forward. My legs shake beneath me.
I’ve never been with a man before. Is that how this ends?
The only touch I’ve tasted from a man has been of the violent kind – most commonly when I was running like the wind from guards or stallholders I’d stolen from, trying desperately to escape their snatching hands before they can grab and punish me.
Or else, I’ve tasted Darr’s backhand more than a few times – when I’d riled up his temper, or simply when he drank too much.
Given that experience, I’d even have thought my body would have instinctively retreated from the physical closeness of a man; always anticipating pain at their hands. I’d have thought every instinct would have urged me to flee, but instead I’m drawn inexorably forward, step by step, closer and closer towards the huge aliens, and the gorgeous, blond-haired warrior who’d offered me this discipline.
Finally – or suddenly – I’m actually there, standing in front of Cyrus. He’s nearly as tall as me even when he’s sitting down. I feel so small and helpless before him; and yet it was my own feet that had carried me here, and my own voice that had accepted his outrageous suggestion.
But I see now that Cyrus is perhaps as deeply affected by this as I am. He has none of his typical cockiness on his lips, in the form of that signature smirk. There’s no trace of arrogance in his eyes, as they burn coldly into me.
Those were a shield – but he’s stripped himself of that armor now. Instead, there’s only a stable, powerful, dominant entity looming over me; exuding focus and self-control. I can feel Varian and Gallus staring at me likewise, their eyes fixed on my body, anticipating what comes next.
But what does come next? Is he really going to… spank me?
The image of being thrown across Cyrus’s huge lap fills my head. I suddenly imagine being held down effortlessly as he disciplines my body with those massive hands of his. The thoughts send a sudden rush of need all the way down my spine.
But who needs to imagine? I gasp, as Cyrus reaches forward – his huge, ivory fingers curling around my wrist as he pulls me gently towards him. He uses only tiny fraction of his great strength, but I stumble forward, knowing how powerless I’d be if I resisted.
“This was your first mistake,” Cyrus warns, his voice a low rumble, “so the punishment will not be too harsh.”
I realize then and there that Cyrus is deadly serious about this. It’s really going to happen. He’s really going to throw me over his lap and spank me. My only means of escape is to flee – to pull my wrist from his steel grasp and just leave this place…
…but if I do that, all of this will be for nothing.
So, I gulp dryly, and let him pull me towards him.
Cyrus looks as still as a statue, but from the contact of his hand around my wrist, I can tell
