Taking Tilly (3 page)

“
Where are you taking
us?”

“
What are you going to do
now?”

“
I want to go
home!”

“
I have
children!”

The aliens surrounded them and herded
them into a tight group.

“
Are toys, now, sex. Sell
at slave market. Train now be good fuck slave.”

It was the ‘commanding’ one who
spoke.

They had to ‘sedate’ three quarters of
the women.

Tilly didn’t have to be sedated
because she was so near to fainting she wasn’t really able to
protest or struggle.

She was shoved into a box-like room
barely big enough for the bed and torture device it
held.

Chapter Three

Shock gripped Tilly for a while. She
had no idea how long, but she was stiff from standing by the time
discomfort overcame her shock sufficiently to arouse her mind to
function again. She still felt oddly devoid of emotion as she
stared around the small room. Darkness fluttered at the back of her
mind, images produced by a fertile imagination that she didn’t want
to look at.

“…
Train now.”

What had he meant by that?

She didn’t really want to know. She
didn’t want to face it—at all—but since she had no choice about
that, she rather thought when it came would be soon
enough.

She still couldn’t resist moving to
the odd looking device that was center stage in the room. It was
some sort of rack with pulleys and chains and manacles
attached.

Fear crept over her bare flesh with
icy fingers that raised gooseflesh everywhere.

Her stomach cramped.

Her kegels fluttered.

She tried to ignore her spasming
kegels. It was nothing more than a reaction to the allover stimulus
of being stark naked and denuded of any and all body hair. The
movement of the air was enough to make her feel as if her skin was
being stroked by invisible fingers.

There was a small door at the back of
the room, she discovered. It opened when she reached it, revealing
a space age bathroom that looked more like a torture chamber than
the room she’d left.

The toilet, fortunately, wasn’t hard
to figure out. She made use of it and examined the cubicle she
assumed must be a shower of some kind. She was almost ready to give
up when it closed around her. For a space of frantic heartbeats,
fear took over, but then she was bathed in some sort of particles
and light. When it stopped, every inch of her skin seemed to be
covered in a fine powder and then heated air blasted around her and
when it stopped her skin was free of the powder.

The room felt warmer when she emerged,
but she wasn’t sure if it was or if the hot air had simply warmed
the fear from her bones and flesh.

She went back into the bedroom and
paced for a while, trying not to think about the manacles and
chains that were everywhere—including on the bed itself.

She’d been trying to avoid the
announcement their captor had made—that they were toys, to be sold,
and in training.

It was just too much to take in so
quickly!

She’d gone searching for Emily and
ended up in an alien spacecraft on her way to a slave market to be
sold as a … sex toy.

As unavoidable as the truth was when
she was surrounded by the evidence of it, she still couldn’t accept
it.

Time passed. She didn’t
become any less aware of her state of nakedness. It almost seemed
like she became
more
aware of it.

She supposed, if she’d been in the
habit of wandering around naked it wouldn’t have been so …
uncomfortable. But she wasn’t. She was in the habit of drying off
and getting dressed as soon as she finished bathing. She dressed
for bed and slept in night clothing and then changed to day
clothing when she go up. She was naked or partially naked for a few
minutes a day. She found sitting around naked very distressing,
felt more vulnerable even than she had before, but the bed was bare
of any kind of covering. There hadn’t even been a towel to use
after the bath—no surprise she supposed since it didn’t use
water—but a huge disappointment.

Hours passed. She had a sense of time
even though she had no external clock to watch. After a while, she
sat on the edge of the bunk because she was tired of standing and
pacing. A while after that, she slipped across the narrow bunk and
braced her back against the wall to relieve the stress of holding
herself upright.

More time passed and then a sliding
sound jerked her to alertness. Instead of the door opening,
however, she saw a drawer had slid into the room. She stared at it
suspiciously for a little while, but then the smell of food finally
wafted to her and her stomach growled.

She was tempted to ignore it—just on
the principle that she was a captive and didn’t want to take
anything from the bastards.

But what good would it do her to try
to starve herself? She’d just be weak—er—and easier prey for
them.

She got up and went to the drawer,
lifting the lid to examine the contents. As she’d guessed, there
was a tray inside and food and what looked like water.

It might be drugged, but was she
really against the idea of being drugged senseless while they … did
things to her?

She decided she rather liked that idea
a lot more than being fully conscious.

Unfortunately, none of it appeared to
be drugged. The food was actually surprisingly good.

When she’d finished, she put the tray
back and went back to sit on the bunk since there didn’t seem to be
anything else to do. She fell asleep some time after that, but
slept fitfully, too aware of her state of nakedness to climb
completely beneath the blanket of oblivion.

Judging by her internal clock and the
meals she received, Tilly decided three days had passed before she
was faced with her first lesson.

The fear she thought had dulled with
boredom at the passing of time instantly leapt to the very pinnacle
of her being when the door abruptly slid open and she saw the
commander filling the door. He stepped inside. The door slid closed
behind him.

Tilly bounded off the bed and charged
toward the bathroom.

The door didn’t open to her
dismay.

She flattened herself against it and
turned to face the commander.

He hadn’t moved from the door. His
expression was hard, unyielding.

“
First lesson. You belong
to me. When I appear, you prostrate yourself and await my command
to do my bidding.”

Tilly blinked at him. The words had
sounded stiff and rehearsed—almost as if he’d memorized them—and
thickly accented, but it sounded like English and yet it was
completely incomprehensible.

Because she was too terrified for her
brain to translate the sounds into words.

He pointed to the floor in front of
him. “There.”

Tilly glanced from his face to his
finger to the floor and then looked at his face again.

“
Now!” he
growled.

Still, Tilly hesitated, wondering if
she could race past him, get the door open and escape ….

To where?

He tensed, as if he meant to come
after her and Tilly bolted from the corner, trying to slip past
him. He slung out one arm and captured her with ease. She tried to
break free of his grip but realized fairly quickly that that was
useless.

He zapped her with the knock-out
thingy. She supposed, later, that the purpose was to make the
‘merchandise’ manageable without damaging it.

When she came to, she was completely
disoriented for several moments. Then she realized that she was
strapped into the torture device and staring at the floor inches
from her face, not the ceiling.

She could see his boots—behind
her.

She could see her ankles manacled to
each side of the contraption.

Her legs were spread so wide her hip
joints felt as if they were going to separate.

The first stinging assault to her
buttocks sent painful ripples up her spine. After that, the pain
only registered in her abused buttocks, however.

Ten whacks. “Who do you belong
to?”

Her mind was empty of everything but
pain and outrage.

Ten more whacks.

“
Who is your
master?”

“
I don’t know your fucking
name!” Tilly screamed at him.

He gave her only five licks that time.
“Master,” he growled.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks
by that time. “Master. I belong to you, Master.”

She jerked when she felt his hand
again, but he only glided it soothingly over her burning ass
cheeks. In a moment, she heard sounds that suggested he was
adjusting his clothing, but she was still caught completely off
guard when she felt something hard and rounded press against the
lips of her sex.

And the bud of her rectum.

And the nub of her clit.

She’d completely forgotten he wasn’t
human.

She gritted her teeth,
struggling not to scream at his burning entry, but his
member—
members—
seemed to be huge like he was.

The thing that had been merely rubbing
against her clit seemed to open like a flower and then attach
itself like a sucker.

It
did
suck!

Pleasure shot through her in spite of
the countering pain as he spread the mouth of her sex till it was
burning with the strain of being stretched to the point of
overshadowing the burning she felt as he penetrated her
rectum.

The flesh yielded to his determined
thrusts after a few moments and he drove so deeply she could feel
his belly against her buttocks.

“
I can give you pleasure
or pain. I can give you pleasure
and
pain. I am your master. Say
it!”

Tilly thought she would choke on the
words, but she said it.

He was silent for a long moment,
still, as if thinking. “You defied me today. No
pleasure.”

She wasn’t certain what he meant—not
at first.

She didn’t actually feel any
pleasure—not at first—only a lessening of discomfort and tingles
that threatened to become pleasure from the thing pulling on her
clit. As he set a pounding rhythm, however, he generated
heat.

Friction, she thought, from the
rubbing of the thick log of flesh against the straining walls of
her sex.

Burning from the thick member scouring
her rectum.

The heat built to a completely
recognizable conflagration, however—raw desire that began to thrum
through her, that took her breath so that she was straining,
struggling to reach the pinnacle. She’d lost all concept of
anything but the pursuit of pleasure.

And then he came, uttering a hoarse,
deep growl of pleasure.

And then he withdrew, left her
dangling head down, every part of her body sparking and sizzling
and throbbing with disappointment and rapidly vanishing
pleasure.

She didn’t realize he’d left the room
until she felt a cool breath of air whisper across her burning ass
cheeks.

Chapter Four

The painful throbbing had eased by the
time the bastard came back and blood was pounding in Tilly’s
temples from her position rather than the ‘other’
places.

“
Had thought—you like that
place, you like dis—and dis not be necessary,” he commented,
touching the frame of the thing she was chained to so that it
brought her upright.

Tilly stared at him blankly, trying to
digest what he’d said.

It wasn’t that he didn’t speak English
amazingly well—particularly since he was clearly not from Earth at
all. It was just that the strange sentence structure together with
the thick accent completely threw her and her mind had to
reinterpret the sounds to find the words that actually
fit.

And beyond that, she was having a lot
of trouble following the conversation on account of the fact that
it didn’t actually sound germane to her situation—at least not at
first.

Finally, she realized he knew that
place was a BDSM club that she’d emerged from just before they took
her—and what the BDSM scene was all about.

Because they had something going with
that bastard of a bartender to find … product for their
enterprise!

“
I wasn’t there because
I’m ‘in’ to BDSM,” she said finally. “I was looking for my sister,
Emily. She went missing ….”

He lifted a hand to silence her. “No
interest—not you, not circumstances.”

Tilly’s jaw dropped in stunned
disbelief. Fortunately, she was so stunned and outraged it deprived
her of words. She didn’t get the chance to say anything he would
make her regret.

“
You slave now, for sex.
Whoever buy, buy to fuck or odder tings dat master like do womans.
You understand?”