Her Alien Commander (16 page)

“Look at me, girl.”

Her eyelashes fluttered but her eyelids remained closed.

“Caria, look at me.”

She cracked her eyes open a fraction, just enough to afford him a glimpse of the blue beneath. “Is it done? I want to go home. You said you’d take me home after…”

“Home?”
Did she mean Earth?

“Your quarters. I want to go home. Please, sir…”

Something shifted deep inside him. She deserved to be punished, and she had been, both here in this cell and yesterday in that escape pod. He had not missed those moments of blind panic as she emerged from the capsule, then she had spent a whole day locked up by herself, which he knew she would hate, and she had endured twenty-five strokes with the paddle. More would be unnecessary and cruel. He told himself that this was justice, not weakness, but whatever, he knew that she had had enough.

“Yes, we are finished. I shall take you home now.”

If he had not known better, he could have sworn she smiled.

Phahlen unshackled her from the bunk, then wrapped Caria in the sheet from her bed. He lifted her in his arms and marched out of the cell, then carried her along the corridor and back to the transporter. She was silent, and didn’t move. Her breathing was even though and her colour good. Just a few minutes later he entered his quarters with her still cradled in his arms and laid her on the bed. She moaned and rolled to her side, and he saw that she was already asleep.

So much for fucking some sense into her. That will have to wait
.

He lowered the lighting, pulled an extra sheet over her, and eased himself into the bed behind her.

* * *

“No, stop. Leave me alone, I don’t want—”

Phahlen came awake in an instant. Caria was thrashing around in the bed beside him, her fearful cries echoing around the room.

“Please, it hurts. Let me go, I didn’t do anything… No,
no
!”

He grabbed her shoulders and gave a little shake. “Caria, it is a dream, no more than that. Wake up.”

Her struggles gathered strength, she fought him in earnest now, her cries louder, more panicked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Let go of me! Let me go…”

He pulled her to him in order to still her flailing fists and feet. As he held her wriggling form tight against his body, he repeated his mantra. “Wake up, little one, you are dreaming. It is okay, you are safe now. I have you. I have you.”

At last the frantic struggles slowed, Caria seemed to be calming and Phahlen dared to slacken his hold on her. He leaned away then tipped up her chin to meet her tear-filled gaze. “Caria?”

“Sir? I… I didn’t mean to… Did I hit you?”

His mouth lifted in a smile. “Once or twice.”

“Please, I didn’t know. I never meant to.” Her voice shook; she was plainly terrified still.

“I realise that. It is okay. You are okay now. It was a bad dream, that’s all.”

“But, I hit you, and you said—”

Oh, fuck
.
With blinding clarity he saw it. She was afraid of him, of being punished for
lashing out at him, even in her sleep when she had no idea what she was doing. He had warned her what would happen if she raised a hand to him again. He kissed her forehead.

“This does not count. Relax, little human. You are safe.”

“Safe? I… oh.” She lowered her gaze, drew in several deep breaths, then tilted her head back again to look up at him. “What happened? I was in a cell, you were punishing me. It hurt, and…” She paused to look around. “Why am I back here? Did we…? I mean, did you—?”

“Did I
fuck you? Not yet. You were exhausted so I left you to get some sleep. You had a bad dream—do you remember anything of it?”

She frowned, trying to remember, then nodded. “Yes, just snatches now. I was back on that planet with the Galeians, they were chasing me and they cornered me. They were grabbing me, dragging me through dark passageways. Then it was you holding on to me. I was fighting, trying to escape but I couldn’t. There were voices, shouting, chanting that I was a thief and a murderer, that I deserved to die. You said it too, and you threw me into a hole. It was small, I had no room, couldn’t move. I was trapped, and—” She stopped, her chest heaving. “It was so vivid, so real…”

“I know. I could tell. It wasn’t real though. You do know that, don’t you?”

She peered up at him, processing the terrifying events that had seized her imagination and lodged themselves in her subconscious. She seemed to be sifting it in her mind, sorting reality from horrific fantasy. Phahlen waited, allowed her the time she needed. At last she met his gaze again.

“Some of it
is
real. I
am
a criminal, a prisoner, convicted and sentenced even though I never had a chance to defend myself. There would have been no point anyway, because no one believes me. Not you, not anyone here.”

“Caria…” he began.

“Don’t bother. I know what you’re going to say. I was on board the
Luminaire
, so that proves it, proves everything.” She pushed herself from his arms and lay back on the mattress, glaring up at him. “If you want to fuck me, then do it. Then you can take me back to my cell.”

“Do not tempt me, Caria,” he growled.

“Tempt you to what? Beat me again? Lock me up in a cell?”

Phahlen rolled from the bed and stalked to the newly installed housekeeping station. “Vahlean coffee, strong.” He grabbed the small mug when it materialised and took a drink of the bitter brew. He had hoped the rush of near enough pure caffeine might help to clear his head, to make her ridiculous accusations less plausible. It failed. He finished the mug then glowered at the small human huddled in his bed. Fear was starting to replace her earlier flash of defiance. He cared for neither look.

“You are confined to this room until I say different. I’ll be back later.” He marched from the room and locked the door behind him.

Bloody infuriating human
.

* * *

“Is Caria all right? I could attend her if need be.” Phahlen looked up from his screen to see Morele hovering at his elbow. The doctor appeared concerned.

“She is fine.” Phahlen was in no mood to discuss his prisoner’s well-being.

“I understand she has been punished for her escape attempt. Forty strokes?”

“Twenty-five in the end. It did the trick.”

The medic appeared relieved and Phahlen bristled. Did his entire crew think he was a monster, mistreating an innocent, defenceless human?

Morele was undeterred by his commander’s brusque attitude. “I was intending to repeat my tests in any case. Is she still in the brig?”

Phahlen shook his head. “My quarters, but under close confinement. No visitors.”

“All the same, Commander, I would feel happier if—”

“All right.” His response had been uttered more sharply than he intended. Phahlen ran his fingers through his hair and instructed himself to get a grip. The medic was just doing his job, and doing it well. “All right, go and check her over.” As the doctor gave a small nod and turned to leave,
Phahlen spoke again. “You might check for abnormal sleep patterns too. She had a bad dream.”

“A bad dream?” The doctor frowned. “As in a nightmare?”

Phahlen shrugged. “Maybe. She was screaming in her sleep, fighting, desperate to escape—something. Someone.”

“Does she have these dreams often?”

“No, this was the first one I’ve seen.”

“I will run some tests. It may simply be that she’s finding it hard to adjust to her captivity. If it persists, we may need to consider sedating her.”

Phahlen scowled at the medic’s receding back as the man went off about his duties. He found the prospect of using chemicals to render Caria more accepting of her situation distinctly unpalatable. She would come around to it in time. She had to. It was just as he had told her all along—she had no choice.

* * *

When he re-entered his bedroom several hours later, it was to find Caria in pretty much the same place he had left her. She had been crying again, and he saw no used dishes or utensils to indicate she had eaten. He got her a small dish of some sort of Earth soup from the dispenser, tomato since he had observed that seemed to be her favourite, and carried it over to the bed.

“I could feed this to you.”

“By force?” She wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“Let’s not go there, Caria. Please, eat it.”

Slowly she extended her hand and took the bowl from him. He placed the spoon in her other hand, and arranged himself beside her to wait until she finished her meal. She took her time, but at last she passed the empty bowl back to him.

“Satisfied now?”

“Getting there. Does your bottom still hurt?”

“Of course it does.”

“Okay. Lie across my lap and—”

“No!”

“I beg your pardon.”

“No, I haven’t done anything. I stayed here, like you said, and…”

“I don’t intend to spank you. I have some salve to help make you more comfortable.”

She peered at him suspiciously. “Salve? Why?”

He didn’t have a good answer for that, even for himself. He settled for the truth.

“Because I want to. Come on, over my lap. Now.”

He managed to inject sufficient authority into his tone to make her obey. Still as naked as she had been yesterday when he strapped her to her bunk, she arranged herself across his knees. Her bottom was still a rosy shade of pink, the welts much less angry after several hours of rest in his bed but he knew it would hurt even so. Caria wasn’t used to such harsh discipline. He must try to remember that.

Phahlen produced a small tube of soothing cream. Morele had given it to him following his visit to Caria and advised it be applied daily for the next few days until the redness faded. The medic had declared Caria fit and well otherwise, and attributed her depressed mood to her recent incarceration and punishment. Phahlen hoped he was right.

“This might sting a bit, but the doctor said it would help.” He took a generous squirt onto his fingers and started to work it into Caria’s punished bottom. She jerked at his touch initially, but soon settled. He rubbed the cream in slowly, careful not to hurt her if he could help it. She didn’t speak, and soon stopped clenching her buttocks. As she relaxed under his gentle touch he saw her eyelids drooping.

“Are you tired, Caria?”

She opened her eyes again. “No, Commander. I slept most of the day. The doctor woke me, and—”

“Any more bad dreams?”

“No, sir.”

“Good.” He continued to massage her bottom as she writhed under his hand.

“Sir…” she began.

“Yes?” He paused. “Is there something you would like me to do for you, Caria?”

He smiled to himself as her face flushed. Such a sensuous little thing; she might hate him, hate her situation here on his ship, but her body told a different story. She wanted him, wanted this.

“Would you like to spread your thighs for me, girl?”

“Yes, sir,” she murmured, moving her knees apart. The new position raised her hips slightly, and he leaned around to catch a clear glimpse of her leaking pussy. Her soft, pink folds were fat and wet, the moisture gleaming. Her arousal was unmistakable, as was his own. He had only to shift a fraction and his solid cock would be pressed against her side. He’d been hard almost since he ordered her to strip yesterday, his balls ached with it but he wouldn’t force her. Not after her angry accusation earlier. He didn’t entirely accept her interpretation of events, but she had a point of sorts and he had his pride.

He slid his hand between her thighs to test her wetness. She groaned and lifted her hips higher. Two fingers slid inside her and she shivered as she tightened around him. She wanted this, wanted him, he knew it but wanted to hear her acknowledge it too.

“I shall fuck you, but you will have to ask me.”

“What does it matter, you’ll do it anyway.”

“No, not unless you ask.”

“What about… about…?”

“I am not worried about that. You
will
ask me.”

“Never.”

“Are you sure?” He took her plump clit between his fingers and squeezed lightly. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Commander! Oh…” She started to writhe and thrust her hips, and he loosened his hold on her swollen nub. “Please, don‘t stop…”

He chuckled, convinced she’d let out her plea without thinking. He took her clit in his fingers again and resumed his sensuous caress. This time he circled and stroked and squeezed until she was right there, nudging the point of no return, that sweet moment when her cunt would contract hard around his fingers as her body relinquished control to him. He caught that exact moment, and stopped.

“Sir, Phahlen… please.” She was whimpering, her face turned to him, her eyes shimmering. “Is this another punishment?”

“No, little human. You have only to ask and I’ll let you come all over my cock.”

“I can’t. Won’t.”

“I know you can, but maybe you won’t. Your loss, Caria.”

“
Sir
,” she wailed as she thumped the mattress with her fists. “Are all Vahleans mean bastards like you?”

“Pretty much. Not that you need to worry yourself about other Vahleans.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear, “You are mine, little Caria. All mine.”

He slid his hand back between her legs to rub her engorged clit, just once, enough to bring her groaning back to the brink. Her pussy was so wet he thought he might drown in her juices. Caria wriggled, trying to rub her tortured clit against his leg. Phahlen raised his hand to deliver a sharp slap to her buttock but thought better of it; now was not the time for hurting her, even in play. Instead he inserted three fingers into her tight channel and went to work on that sweet spot inside.

It was the better approach, and he was rewarded within minutes.

“Okay, you win.” She clamped her pussy tight around his fingers as he stilled to listen to her.

“Win?” When she didn’t answer he curled his fingers inside her to remind her he was there. “What do I win, Caria?”