The Sevarian Way (7 page)

Read The Sevarian Way Online

Authors: Justine Elyot

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Erotica, #Romantic, #Romance, #Fantasy, #Sci-Fi/ BDSM

Another finger spread her wider. She struggled to retain a semblance of composure, but the buzzers defeated her and she wailed aloud, sure that another unwanted climax couldn’t be far off. This felt so uniquely sinful, so decadent.

“You can take this,
Suka
,” he said, softly, keeping her calm, tamping down her rising panic. His fingers
scissored
inside her,
then
they met the solid resistance of the dildo, just a thin stretch of flesh separating them. He pulled out and
Suka
released a long exhalation, only to yelp anew as a larger, wider, colder substitute took the place of Paul’s fingers.

“You know about butt plugs, don’t you,
Suka
?” he asked, easing it carefully between her cheeks and into the circular aperture. “They are especially necessary for bad little ensigns like you. They keep them in their place. You won’t be able to forget you are wearing one of these. I’d like to take one of these back to the ship. It would be nice to know you were squirming in your seat on the bridge with one of these stuffed inside your tight pants every time you broke a rule.
Beats loss of Association Time privileges.
Bending you over and spanking your arse, then filling it up with one of these would work wonders on you, I think. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, Sir,” she moaned, twisting her hips as the widest part of the plug tested her endurance.

“I think we’d soon have one very obedient, very well-behaved little ensign, wouldn’t we?”

“Yes, Sir.”
The plug seated itself fully and then, to
Suka’s
mingled ecstasy and despair, it began to buzz in unison with its pussy-bound counterparts.


Ohh
.”
Suka’s
moans were low and throaty. The vibrator in her arse added a mind-blowing power to the fifth orgasm and she crumpled in the bonds, a boneless doll, taken over the edge of heavenly darkness.

“Stand straight,” commanded Paul.

Somehow, she obeyed. Somehow, though her knees no longer existed and she was no more than a sticky mess of lust and exhaustion and submission.

“I’m going to give you six. Count them.”

“Can’t…”

“This is your limit?”

He put aside whatever he was holding and made to release her wrists.

“Yes, I can!” she cried, delirious with the power her submission had given her. No amount of drilling on the Academy quadrangle had ever tested her tolerance levels like this, but, in the very kernel of her being,
Suka
knew she could take more. She could take as much as he could give. “Give it to me! Give me what I need!”

“Since you put it that way…”

She heard a low swish through the air behind her.
It must be a cane.

Fear and exhilaration coursed through her. This, she knew from her studies, was the most severe of implements. If Paul gave her this, he must think she could handle it. She had won! She had won his hand, the hand that would hold her in check.

You have to take the caning first,
Suka
, she cautioned herself, realising a victory celebration might be pre-emptive.
Marshal your strength. Ignore the vibrations. Breathe through it. Take it. It’s only six strokes.

The slender rod tapped against the apple of her backside. She had had time to recover from the paddling and her bottom was no longer anywhere near numb, though the heat and sting were still very much in evidence. Her thighs were soaked with her own chilling juices, her clit fat and overworked, her cunt and arse straining to keep up with the relentless stimulation.

The menacing swish cut through the air again, and this time it ended with a flat split of sound that, for a moment,
Suka
did not recognise as the cane’s contact with her bottom. But in a millisecond ferocious white-hot pain streaked a line across her cheeks and she needed all her breath control, every scrap, not to scream like a banshee.


Ohh
,
ohh
, one, Sir,” she whimpered, trying to escape, trying to distract him with her swinging hips, trying to do anything that might get her out of any more of those breathtaking stripes.

“Is that painful?” he asked, with pretend sympathy.
“Poor
Suka
.
I think we’ve found the implement for her. I think we’ve found the thing that will work. I’ll take this back with me too.”

Oh, please do!

His words spurred her on. Cheekily, she pushed out her bum, inviting the second stroke.

It hit the end of the butt plug, causing it to shudder inside her and increase the intensity of the vibrations. Vibrations all over her, from the sting, from the plug, from the dildo, from the clit buzzers, she was one big vibration.

“Two, Sir.”

He laid the third and fourth vicious cuts on the ‘sit’ spot where she would feel them for days on end. She counted them, and went further than that, thanking him as well.

“You’re thanking me?” he said in surprise. “You’re quite a girl,
Suka
.
Quite a girl.
Thank me for
this
.”

It whipped down across her lower buttocks, adding its burn to that which already licked across her punished skin.

“Five, Sir, thank you, Sir, oh, I’m on fire!”

“Last one. Brace yourself. It’ll be a hard one.”

He was right. It set her leaping from one extended foot to the other, yelping and yowling, powerless to do anything to douse that evil conflagration on her bottom. The vibrators made her come again, the sixth orgasm at the sixth stroke, a fusion of passion and pleasure and pain that left her shaking and tearful.

“You didn’t count,” chided Paul, but he seemed beyond caring, hurrying to pull out her dildo and replace it with his stiff, thick cock. His thrusts were quick and powerful, his abdomen slapping against her throbbing bottom, reawakening the sting, butting the plug, making her scream through a final climax that lasted for minutes rather than seconds, multiple melting orgasms that didn’t end until Paul had come inside her, his fingers bruising her hips, his last words a reminder that she belonged to him.

Suka
trembled through the
uncuffing
and removal of the toys and fell against Paul, who gathered her close, lifted her and carried her to the one comfortable-looking prop in the whole room—an old-fashioned four-poster bed. He laid her down, then took off his boots and uniform and joined her, lying propped on his side. Through half-closed eyes
Suka
could see him looking down at her, his expression sombre, his face streaked with sweat.

She felt limbless, floating in the ether, everything inside her scooped out to make a hollow, weightless shell. She could feel the angry throb of the cane welts, but they seemed irrelevant
somehow,
and far below her surface.

“Who won that then?” wondered Paul aloud.

“We both did.”
Suka’s
voice was dreamy and faraway.

“I didn’t go too far for you, did I? You would have said something, wouldn’t you?”

Suka
lifted a hand and put it to his cheek, barely managing to keep her arm raised, it shook so.

“Oh God, tell me
it’s
okay?” Paul sounded agitated. “You’re okay,
Suka
? I feel guilty. I’ve taken it over the edge.”

“No.”
Suka’s
languid tones seemed to soothe him a little. “It was the best thing ever. It was just incredible.”

“Really?
You aren’t just saying that because you don’t want to go back to the ship?”

“No.
Not at all.
I mean it. It was. You were. Just like the old-fashioned
doms
I’ve read and dreamed about. Fantasy
come
true.”

“That’s…good,” said Paul, but he sounded troubled.

“Good.”

“Listen,” he said, whispering for some reason. “What are we going to do?”

Suka
turned her head, the fractional effort it took depleting her of what little energy she still had.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think you can forget about this? Because I don’t think I can.
Pandora’s Box.
Well and truly open.
But a box of pleasures rather than ills.
Perhaps it should be called
Suka’s
Box instead.”

“You’re right. It’s too much to just leave behind here. It’s a part of us, Commander.”

“Call me
Azed
.”

“Oh, I couldn’t do that!”
Suka’s
hand flew to her mouth and she suppressed a giggle.

“Oh, call me Master then, if that’s easier for you.”

“In a weird way, it is.
Master.
I like that.”

“It’s a part of us,” he echoed, musing. “Yes. We can’t lop it off and carry on as normal. So the question remains. What are we going to do?”

“Sleep,” said
Suka
determinedly.

“As a short-term plan, it’s a good one.” He slid an arm around her, pulling her close, cradling her head beneath his chin, and on the silent, deserted planet, they were the two lone dreamers.

Chapter Five

 

 

 

On waking,
Suka
almost expected everything to be different. Paul would have changed his mind, have slept off the intensity of emotion and be insisting on a swift return and a blotting out of inconvenient feelings.

But, if anything, he seemed almost keener to retain the link than
Suka
was, kissing her eyelids until they opened, stroking her hair, whispering into her ear.

“Sleepyhead.
We have a decision to make.”

She smiled into his hawkish face and impulsively pulled it down, her hand on the back of his neck, for a long, slow smooch.

“Can’t we put it off?” she whispered, coming up for air. Her whole body ached, stung, throbbed, but somehow she was ready for him again, her juices gathering between her legs.

“No,” he said sternly, tweaking her nose. “We can’t.”

“So.”
She sat up with a deep sigh, then changed her mind, and moved around to lie on her hip.
Much less painful.
“Back to the ship, I suppose.”

“I suppose. I don’t know what I can do. I can ask to be relieved of command—”

“No! They would refuse anyway.”

“Well, the only other way is to synchronise leave and have at least a few weeks of the year to look forward to. But we’d have to keep it very quiet.”

Suka
gazed dejectedly at his hand, flat on the bed in front of her.

“It’s not great. But I guess it’s the best we can hope for.”

He bent to kiss her, sweetly, regretfully, but firmly.

“That’s settled. That’s a plan. Come, then.”

They dressed—Paul rapidly,
Suka
with a great variety of winces and sucking in of cheeks—then they left the punishment suite, passing through the darkened room in which
Suka
had hidden earlier. Paul shone his communicator torch through the gloom, able to look closely at the fixtures and fittings now he was not chasing his errant ensign.

“This is the Hall of the Futures.” He spoke reverently, walking over to a computer console of some kind and running his hand over the apparatus.
“Where the
Paladians
developed new technologies.
Something they were extremely good at, by the way. This must be some kind of communications device. Shame there’s no power to watch it in action. Perhaps we could come back down with boosters.”

“I thought the
Paladians
were quite isolationist.”

“They were, to an extent. Neighbours didn’t approve of their lifestyle. Neighbours were prudes, essentially.”

“Like our civilisation.”

Paul turned and grinned. “Yes. Blundering along thinking they’re doing the right thing, invading people’s private space.”

“It’s a crying shame. Do you think it’ll ever change?”

“Probably.
Not in our lifetime, though.”

Paul was frowning over another machine, tapping at various buttons with some of his tools.

“Don’t know what this is. I haven’t seen this one in the books.
Must have been something new.
A prototype.”

“It’s very strange-looking,” commented
Suka
. “Like a lift car but with lots of extra knobs on. I think something happens to you if you step into it.”

“Perhaps it’s a new punishment device. But it doesn’t seem to work on electricity. Is there a manual anywhere?
A blueprint?”

Paul cast around for the essential piece of information, but found none.

“Well, we may never know. I’m going to photograph it and research it back on board ship.” He took a snap of the device, while
Suka
crouched down and opened a drawer in the outer wall.

“What’s this?”


Perzidium
.
The treasure of
Paladium
Three.
Very rare, very valuable, with magnetic and electrical properties.”

Paul turned the bright blue shard of crystal over and over in his hand.

“Could it be used as fuel? Could it be what makes this thing work? No! Stop! What are you doing?”

He leapt forward just a fraction too late to prevent
Suka
from putting a piece of the
Perzidium
into a tube on the front of the capsule. A low hum pervaded the air and the periphery of the box fluoresced into life.

Paul’s foot knocked
Suka
off-balance and she fell backwards into the capsule, screaming as her backside hit the floor, both from pain and from fear of whatever unknown doom she might have consigned herself to.

“I’m disappearing!” Her foot was beginning to melt, the silver boots dripping.

“No!” Paul, without a second thought, took a dive into the capsule with her, trying to drag her out, but already he too was beginning to degrade, his strength crucially sapped. He possessed only enough energy to hold on to
Suka
and watch as her blonde curls migrated, one by one, from her head.

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