I grit my teeth. I can’t let them see me weak.
No matter what, I must win – I won’t let this punishment change me.
They may be trying to teach me a lesson, but I won’t let this punishment stop me from looking for any and all windows of escape. These three aliens won’t be able to hold me forever. They might think they can train me to be a subdued, submissive little prisoner – but I won’t break.
Another hard spank comes cracking down across my left buttock, and my resolve instantly weakens. Tears flood my eyes. I drop my head and focus my glistening eyes on the old, dull metal of the workbench. It reminds me of the cold, grey alien eyes of my kidnappers – three pairs of them staring at me right now, helpless and exposed.
I shudder. It would be so easy to give in – to surrender. To give up all hope of escape, and submit to anything these monstrous alien warriors desire to avoid this punishment ever being repeated.
But am I the only one in anguish right now?
Behind me, towering over me like a mountain, Otho is breathing in deeply – his breath rasping in his throat. I wish I could see his face right now, so I could see how close he was to losing control.
If Otho did snap, would he take me right here? Bent over this cold, metal workbench? Helpless to escape him?
Would the other aliens hold me down as he fucked me? As Otho took me hard from behind – only to then take turns to seed me next?
My nipples instantly harden, despite the pain. I feel heat flood between my legs. There’s a tingle of electricity running up and down my body – a dazzling, erotic thrill at being punished by these dominant, alien men.
I drag my head up.
With my back – or rather my backside – to him, I can’t see Otho; but I can see the other two.
Lazar and Brennan are looming over me – staring while their cocks harden noticeably inside their pants.
My eyes widen. I can’t stop looking at the hardening rods of steel-firm flesh stretching the fabric of their shorts. The fist-thick shafts that clearly ache for me. I know it’s in the nature of their species to want to dominate and control a virginal woman, and I don’t resent them that.
Perhaps I should – but I don’t. I know, at their core, these Aurelians are like others of their kind. Aurelians are born leaders, natural masters, and always completely in charge.
I’m ashamed of it, but something in my nature burns to submit to their mastery.
“Are you going to try to escape again?”
Otho booms out the words. They echo across the basement, and as I listen, I also savor the brief respite from Otho’s harsh spanking. My ass burns from the pain of huge, heavy hands cracking down across it again and again.
I shake my head.
“N-no.”
I gasp out the word, but even I can hear the lie in my voice.
Otho pauses. He’s weighing my word. Finally, he growls: “I don’t believe you.”
He heard the lie in my tone, too. He may be a man of simple tastes, but he’s no simpleton. Otho is not a trained dog, to be sent against an enemy. He’s smart in his own, unique way – with an honest, open intelligence that’s so different from Brennan’s cruel, cunning wisdom and Lazar’s coldly intellectual mind.
He doesn’t wait for me to respond. Instead, this hand comes crashing down across my ass again - this time so hard I jump – or, at least, I try to.
I can’t jump, though. I can barely squirm. Otho’s hand is pressing down between my shoulder blades so firmly that I have nowhere to run.
Agony burns through my ass – and then, something inside me suddenly…
…snaps.
I whimper in pain, but there’s a new ache in me now. I know Otho’s punishing me – taking control of me. What’s changed is that I now crave the feeling of losing all independence – of total submission.
I’m aching for the opportunity to turn off all the anxiety and fear I’ve felt for as long as I can remember – to just be, and let these towering warriors take ownership of me.
A tear rolls down my cheeks, but for the first time in as long as I can remember, I feel no fear.
I know I can trust Otho.
I don’t know how I know it – but I do.
Instincts, maybe. When I saw Otho’s face, it was so starkly different to that of Brennan or Lazar. Those two clearly have a sadistic thrill in delivering the punishment, enjoying my pain.
But Otho just genuinely wants to teach me a lesson. He genuinely wants me to think twice before going out into the badlands alone again – where cutthroats and thieves roam.
He wants to teach me not to venture where I’d be a tasty target for kidnappers – or, at least, kidnappers with fewer morals than the Aurelians.
The fourth spank – slapping against my buttocks with a crack – instantly clears my thoughts. Now, there’s nothing but the pain again – but, to my shock, all my angst and fear melts away as I’m lost in the hurt.
I fight – trying to wriggle away from the anvil-like pressure of his huge hand between my shoulder blades – but Otho shifts to stand directly to my left, so he can get a better grip on me.
He forces me harder against the metal table. I turn my head left, and I find myself directly eye-level with his crotch.
Gods!
I can see the huge, hard rod of his stiff cock straining against the material of his pants – just inches from my face.
Even accounting for the fact that I’m so close to Otho’s crotch, that thing in his pants is still fucking huge! I can imagine him lifting the hem of
