Breaking Brandi

( c ) Copyright by Stacey St. James February
2015

Cover art by Jenny Dixon

ISBN 978-1-60394-881-4

Smashwords Edition

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters,
events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be
confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is
merely coincidence.

Author Note: I’ve used BDSM in this book to
try to please readers interested in such things—I don’t recommend
it as something ‘exciting’ to try in real life. Sex games between
consenting adults can add spice and excitement, but it isn’t
something safe to try unless you know your partner very, very well.
A stranger, or someone you don’t know as well as you think you do,
might take it way too seriously and actually harm you.

Chapter One

The transition from the darkness that had
scarcely even contained the occasional strange dream into stark
awareness was so abrupt that it threw Brandi into a state of
complete confusion and shock. One moment she was floating in the
endless night that had enveloped her for what seemed like forever,
that had deprived her of any sensory input since she’d been taken,
and the next she was pelted with an overload to her senses that
sent her mind reeling. Light exploded behind her eyelids,
surrounded her. Sound thundered against her eardrums, rattling
them. Cold air blasted her bare, heated skin as her cocoon was
abruptly ripped away. A sense of falling was followed by a hard
impact against a freezing metallic surface that sent shockwaves of
pain throughout her entire body.

She struggled to breathe only to discover
that her lungs were filled with a gluttonous mass that produced the
sense of drowning the moment she instinctively tried to fill her
lungs with air. The thick slime erupted from her mouth and nose,
seemingly self-propelled, streaming out of her until she managed to
drag in enough air to begin to cough to expel the residue.

Before she could get the coughing under
control, she was seized and jerked upward by a boney, talon–like
hand that banded around one upper arm like a manacle. Instinct
saved her from landing on the hard floor again when he let her go
almost as abruptly. She managed to get her wobbly legs under her,
lock her knees, plant her feet in a stance to help her balance.

Some of the others weren’t as lucky. Either
they were weaker from their stay in stasis or just too muddled and
confused to react quickly enough. Whatever the case, several of the
women around her hit the floor a second time before they were
rudely jerked upright again and given a shove in the direction of
the door that slid open at the end of the corridor created by the
pods that lined either side of the vast room.

Brandi staggered toward the door when she
was shoved, remaining on her feet with an effort, struggling to
bring her mind into some kind of order.

How, she wondered, could her mind be so
blank?

Where was she?

How had she gotten here?

What was happening?

Cold tendrils of fear began to snake through
her as she searched for the answers in her foggy mind.

Around her several of the women voiced those
questions aloud. Their thin, whining voices echoed around the
chamber but the only response was guttural growls from the
creatures that were herding them toward the yawning cavity in the
far wall.

Brandi glanced toward the creatures
furtively, still too shocked to feel the stark terror she was
certain she should have felt.

Not human.

Alien.

They reminded her of nothing so much as …
frogs.

Well maybe snakes, except they had arms and
legs—a body shape that was very humanoid—but skin that was
splotchy, grayish, and pebbled—more like they were covered in warts
than scales and certainly nothing like human skin.

The eyes, though ….

She shuddered and looked away quickly when
she saw the one she’d been staring at move his head in her
direction.

Taken by aliens—although she had no
comprehensible memory of how that had happened.

Her last clear recollection was of climbing
into her bed ….

It flickered through her mind to wonder if
she was dreaming—rather hopefully—but everything that was
happening, had happened, was all too real to be nothing more than a
figment of a sleeping mind.

It was, however, without a doubt, a
nightmare of a most horrendous kind she discovered when her and the
other women had been herded down a bisecting corridor and finally
stepped into an opening that looked out over a world so alien it
stunned her mind back into a near frozen state of shock and
disbelief.

The sun was red and so huge in the sky that
Brandi expected to burst into flames for the first few seconds
after she’d emerged onto the gangplank leading from the ship to the
stone platform it had set down on. The sky was pink and the
landscape around her was bathed in shades of purple. The bare
ground was the color of drying blood—the plants varying shades of
lavender and blue.

She squinted at them for several moments and
finally looked down at her bare skin and discovered she’d become a
peculiar shade of pink—almost lavender.

Filtering of the red sun’s rays through the
atmosphere then, she decided, wondering idly what color her
surroundings really were.

She supposed, after a moment, what they
appeared to be since this was the light natural to this world.

The question was, if the same thing was seen
bathed in the Earth’s sunlight, would it still look so alien?

She had little more than a glimpse of the
city that surrounded the landing field and the huge, warehouse-like
building they were led in to, but it looked run down—alien like
everything else—but old enough to have been there a very long time
and the ‘things’ walking along the streets bore little resemblance
to humans beyond having two legs, arms—and she thought two eyes,
one nose …. Humanoid and still so vastly different from human
beings beyond being roughly shaped the same.

The sense of heaviness didn’t abandon her
altogether—or the struggle for air—even after enough time had
passed she thought she should be adjusting from one environment to
another. And she finally concluded that, perhaps, she weighed more
on this world than she’d been accustomed to and that the air might
be thinner or a slightly different chemical mix than she was used
to.

But she could still breathe—move.

So it supported life forms similar to Earth
people.

Or maybe it
was
nothing more than the
residual effects of being in the pod?

She didn’t even recall being podded, but her
mind shied away from probing too closely for an elusive memory that
might be best left lost.

The interior of the building was gloomy
after being outside, bereft of any sort of artificial light that
she could see beyond a glow at the other end.

She had no idea what produced the glow since
she was about mid-way of the group and the narrowness of the
hallway they entered forced them into a single file.

The women in front of her bolted into a run,
however, and Brandi followed suit mindlessly—with no notion of
why
they were running, or where, but filled with a sense of
fear and dread that encouraged her to force herself into a
lope.

She realized as she reached the other end
why the women in front of her had run.

There was light at the other end because
there was a door that had been left ajar and that door led to
freedom—led outside of the building, opened to a series of wide
fields bordered by woods.

She had just enough time to register the
possibility of escaping captivity when something painful jolted
through her and sucked her down into a black hole. Her last
conscious thought was that she’d been suckered into a hopeless bid
for freedom that was going to get her dead when she’d had no real
hope of attaining freedom.

But then again there were worse things than
being dead.

* * * *

Brandi’s first thought when she surfaced was
that she’d been buried alive. The instant that thought entered her
mind, she began to struggle, uttering mindless animal cries of
effort and terror.

Tried.

She discovered she couldn’t move in any
direction—could barely even twitch—which strengthened her
conviction that she’d been buried alive and magnified her
terror.

Her own screams deafened her, rang painfully
enough in her ears to force her to pause for breath and to reassess
her situation. For several moments, all she could detect where her
own heated, frightened breaths reflected back at her.

And yet she felt icy air caressing her bare
skin—everywhere.

There was something over her face—over her
entire head—she realized when she’d calmed enough to use her
senses. Her nostrils felt almost frozen from the air she’d been
sucking in and that made her realize that
they
were
exposed.

The remainder of her face, however, was
wrapped snugly.

Some sort of hood?

It smelled like leather.

The only way she could tell that she’d
opened her eyes, however, was the brush of her lashes against the
thing covering her head.

Her mouth was also covered, which explained
why her screams had echoed in her ears.

Quiet now, she could hear muffled screams
around her and realized she hadn’t been separated from the other
women. She just couldn’t see them.

Dismissing that for the moment, refusing to
even attempt to analyze why the other women were screaming, she
went back to trying to assess her own situation.

Her torso felt warm like her head, felt as
if it was confined in something tight enough she couldn’t fill her
lungs completely without a great effort.

Her joints ached—from strain—but she
couldn’t figure out what kind of strain, whether she was prone,
supine—or hanging. It was impossible to tell from the pressure
points and the icy patches of exposed skin. She thought her bare
buttocks were pressed against something, but she wasn’t sure.

She sensed a presence close by a split
second before something—fingers—begin to pinch and pull at her
nipples. Her heart leapt into her throat. Confusion filled her.

But, naturally enough, her nipples hardened
and stood erect at the stimulation.

Still, the pinching and pulling continued,
bordering pain, but not quite there.

Until abruptly the pinch increased and
something seared one nipple. She’d barely had time to register the
pain when a similar burning pierced the other.

The second assault was worse, eradicating
the notion that both nipples had gone completely numb. She felt
something hard slip through the holes and realized after a few
moments of searching her mind for an explanation that her nipples
had been pierced and a ring pushed through them.

She swallowed against the knot of fear and
pain that rose in her throat, struggling against the urge to puke
frantically because her mouth was covered and she feared she would
suffocate if she gave in to the sickness.

But then she felt the tug on her clit.

She didn’t even have time to anticipate the
pain more than a handful of seconds before the fiery piercing that
was followed by the insertion of another ring.

Thankfully, they moved away then, leaving
her in her misery—struggling against the urge to scream and weep,
but the painful throbbing of her clit and her nipples took a very
long time to subside to a more bearable level.

And just as it seemed the pain would subside
completely, she felt a tug on the rings. She whimpered. She
couldn’t help it, but apparently that satisfied whoever had pulled
at it. The tension eased.

She realized after a few moments that, at
some point while she was too engrossed in her personal misery to
really notice, others had moved into the room. Despite the hood,
she could hear movements around her.

A mixture of fear and curiosity distracted
her from the residual throbbing in her most sensitive areas.

She wasn’t left in complete ignorance of the
reason for the increased presence for long, unfortunately.

She felt something at the mouth of her sex
and realized for the first time that she was spread wide enough she
barely felt the brush of a cold hand along her inner thighs in
warning before something hard and thick began to push into her.

She flinched, but discovered she could do no
more either instinctively or willfully.

She had little moisture to ease the
intrusion and what little there was dried up with fear.

The hard object was removed. A moment
later—now lubricated with something cold and slimy—it reappeared,
was shoved all the way inside her until it bumped against her womb
and then, after a brief, almost assessing pause, was withdrawn.