Submissive by Anya Howard Page B

away, the last one thrilled her pussy anew, fucking her so hard her breasts slapped against one another.
    Xaqriel’s light hovered down from the trees. He knelt before her and pulled aside the golden cloth of his loincloth. Tilting her chin up, he parted her lips with his thumbs. His huge cock swelled in her mouth. Deeply he fucked her mouth while the guard continued to fuck her needy pussy. The guard strummed her clit as he worked, soon bringing her to a tormented orgasm. After his own climax, he slapped her sore backside and withdrew from her drenched orifice.
    She was still shuddering with ecstasy as Xaqriel’s cock plummeted into her mouth and a rush of fluid, like honey and spice, jetted down her throat. Sir Douglas came about to her backside again. With his hand he spanked her, but now her cries were silenced by the great organ still pumping into her mouth.
    When at length Xaqriel pulled out, he grabbed her beneath the arms and pulled her to her feet. Using his right arm, he inclined her back, and with the fingers of his left hand he pinched her clit. It pounded between the mighty fingers and Gillian hardly knew she was moaning until one of the guards stooped and kissed her mouth.
    Xaqriel rearoused her passion until she was at the threshold of another orgasm. Then he drew his touch away, leaving her draped in his arm and undulating wantonly. She heard him speak something to Sir Douglas, and then he stood her up straight again. He turned her about by the waist and placed her palms against the tree trunk.
    The crop struck her buttocks again. She whimpered, not understanding how they could punish her again so soon after enjoying her. Xaqriel came to stand at her side, gazing into her face. Gently, he wiped the fresh tear that rolled down her chin.
    Gillian wailed under the strikes of the merciless crop, and Xaqriel, smiling, spread her legs wide and began to massage her dripping sex.
    When finally the crop stopped, he spoke into her ear, “Domination and pleasure—these are your soul’s calling, Gillian. Hopefully, this demonstration will help you to see things clearly now, and it will help right the damage wrought by the ordinary world that nurtured your fear of these needs.”
    She was crying so hard she could see nothing but her hands pressed against the bark. But she wanted to melt in the heat of his illumination, to hide a little longer from the truths he spoke. But it was not to be, and she knew it, for she had hid all her life and that time was gone.
    His wings raised and she heard a muffled flood upon the air. When she dared to turn her face the only thing she could see of him was a dusky delineation flitting over the canopies of the oaks.
    â€œIt’s late. Time this one was to bed,” Sir Douglas said. He took her hand and led her back to the house, and when she had not the will to obey his command and stop her crying, the stinging crop compelled otherwise.

5
    T he first rays of daylight appeared over the horizon as Bruce made the walk back from the pavilion grounds to the guards’ compound behind the prison. All the night men were making their way to their homes, laughing and talking as they walked by. He was in need of a cigarette, if just to forget something he had seen that night—or thought he had seen. A Disciple, in the company of a prisoner; she’d looked so much like Gillian that he’d gawked at them for some time. Probably nothing more than an illusion caused by the starlight. Yet it had haunted him the rest of his shift and he looked forward to sleeping off the memory.
    William shuffled by and offered a cigarette. Bruce readily accepted, as he was on his last pack. But he wasn’t worried; Madam had assured the guards that the next shipment for the commodities store would be arriving the next morning. The Saphorians, angels of light and sound, who recruited Earthling guards, were always reliable in their deliveries. Besides, whenever he was in dire need