Page 9 of Surrender

“Arch your back. Stick that ass higher.”

Swallowing her embarrassment, she did as she was told. Talia heard a swish then the sharp crack of the leather-like hide against her skin. A blast of heat came next then the shocking pain.

“The rest of you will count,” Sori ordered. When they didn’t immediately comply, she wielded the strap again. Talia bit off a cry.

“Count. Or I’ll whip her until you do, and then we’ll start the ten.”

Irna began. The others joined in with tentative half-whispers. “O-one.”

The swish, the crack then the wave of pain. “Two.”

Dimly, Talia heard the ragged chorus. The strap whistled through the air. She flinched, anticipating the fiery sting.

“Rule number two. Do not move from the position you are ordered to assume, or we begin all over.” She raised her voice. “Count again – from one.”

Talia heard gasps as the strap descended. Then everything became a blur. She focused on staying in position, without moving a muscle, no matter how hard the blows came. Sori wielded the strap with fierce concentration, laying each stroke alongside the previous one.

The heat became an agonizing blaze.

By the tenth stroke, Talia’s body quivered from the effort to remain still. She’d never struck another person. But she wanted to jump up, grab the strap, and lay into Sori with all her might. Though Sori was a head taller, she was sure that with her greater muscle mass she could overcome the alien trainer.

But she couldn’t overcome Balam’s forces, easily summoned with a single cry from Sori. And she dared not act rashly, since she feared the trainer would take her wrath out on the other women. Talia had already tipped her hand when she jumped in to save Irna. Sori wouldn’t hesitate to use force against Irna and the others to keep her in line.

Finally, Sori bent down and held out the strap. “Now thank me – and kiss it.”

Talia swallowed her anger and made her tone contrite. “Thank you, mistress.”

Sori didn’t move until Talia raised her head enough to touch her lips to the strap. The thick hide stank of sweat and fear.How many other helpless victims has she disciplined with it?

“Get up,” the trainer snapped. “Go back and wash the hair of the woman you saved then let her wash yours. By now the water will be cold as ice. It should feel good dripping on your burning ass.”

Irna waited in her tub. She darted Talia a sideways glance, her eyes filled with gratitude tinged with guilt. Talia gave her shoulder a reassuring pat then set to work washing the woman’s hair. She worked the soap into a lather, rubbed it on Irna’s scalp then drew her fingers through the woman’s matted locks to separate the tangles.

Talia had never touched another person so intimately, so she had no idea if she was doing it right. Irna helped, turning her head one way and another then gesturing toward the bucket when it was time to rinse.

When her turn came, Talia lowered herself into the tub and gasped. Sori had been right. The water was icy cold. But it relieved the burning ache on her bottom. She leaned her head back, as Irna had done, and the woman poured a stream of water over her head. Then she set to work, massaging the soap into Talia’s scalp with strong but gentle fingers.

Despite all she’d been through, Talia found herself relaxing under the woman’s soothing touch. She’d never known physical contact could be so comforting. She closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment to savor the feeling.

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of the Sori’s whip slapping the side of the tub. “Enough! Get out and go stand with the others.”

The women formed a ragged line, shivering at the chill in the room. Leto paced back and forth in front of them, pinching a nipple, squeezing a bare buttock. He drove a bony knuckle into Talia’s back.

“Shoulders back! Stick those mounds out. The Zolex love groping them. Their own females are all flat as boards.”

Meanwhile, Sori had laid out an array of frightening implements on a bench next to a wooden table. She pointed to Talia.

“Since you’re so eager to step forward, you can be first. Get up here. Lie on your back, knees bent. Then grab your ankles and pull them up to your ass.”

Talia shrank back. With the Jamrons, she’d had no choice. They’d dragged her to the table and wrestled her onto it. She’d thought nothing could be worse. But now she had to put herself in the embarrassing position, spread her legs wide in front of Leto and Sori and the other captives.

Sori snapped the whip. “Move fast – or I’ll have to punish you again.”

When she heard that, Talia had to restrain herself from clapping her hands over her aching bottom. She climbed onto the table, lay down, and bent her knees.

Sori called Leto over, and both of them bent low. They touched her clitoris, her labial folds, keeping up a running commentary in a language that seemed to be made up of clicks and grunts. Her Tellex chip only worked after several hours of exposure to a foreign tongue, so Talia had no idea what they were saying.

She didn’t need an interpreter for what came next. Sori spread her vaginal lips apart. Leto picked up a smooth cylinder carved from black stone. It was easily three times the length and girth of the tool Talia used in her gratification sessions. She cringed when he inserted it into her vagina. The probe had ridges along the shaft, small near the tip, larger and bumpier farther along. Talia shuddered as he worked the first ridge in.

---