Page 18 of Broken Triad
Rachel is not naïve. She’s seen what the baron Paulus does—whipping a guard for stealing, or docking pay from a clumsy servant. But she doesn’t know Aurelians.
One of the three men is going to put her over his lap, strip her bare, and spank her until the Mating Rage overwhelms him. Then the three of them are going to take her, on the grass of the garden. If she didn’t sacrifice herself, it would be me right now pressed into the grass, being claimed by Krazak’s triad in brutal fashion.
I slowly move back into the line of women, trying to disappear.
“You saved my life,” says Rachel, making her voice soften, more submissive. She’s smart. She’s realizing defiance will only be broken. “I’m yours to do with as you wish. Here, or in the palace.”
“You insulted an Aurelian Commander. This will not be easy for you, my sweet little mate.”
The black ink on the lower half of Krazak’s brand marks him as a warrior who has killed for the Priests. He has honor in their society, and she called him an animal, straight to his face.
The other servants look down, unable to watch, but I know it’s all my fault. It would be too easy to look away and hide myself from responsibility. I have to look at Rachel. I have to see what I’ve done, even if it means watching my brave, warrior friend spanked until she’s whimpering. Orr, the huge, bearded alien, runs his hand down the front of her servant’s robe, opening it and exposing her body, groping her in front of us. He pulls her close to him by her nipple, making her gasp as he forces her into his bulk. I know how it feels to have three huge, beastly warriors towering around you, but I can’t imagine what she’s feeling right now as he gropes her in front of us. She whimpers in pain, but there’s an edge of lust to her moan, and it makes my cheeks flush.
It would have been me, trapped between Krazak, Khra and Bolden, if she didn’t trade her life for mine.
“I can handle it.” Rachel’s voice is a whisper, but it travels in the shock-silent garden, everyone cowed by the near duel between the rival alphas and Rachel’s noble sacrifice. Even the sounds of war are muted. The anti-air battery has quieted, and fewer Reavers hum through the skies. The Aurelians stopped the bulk of the Scorp attack in less than an hour, while the richest humans and the army who could have fought against the onslaught simply fled, leaving us all behind.
Krazak, Khra and Bolden step away from Rachel and Orr, backing up and giving them space. Though they demanded the punishment, they have no satisfaction on their features knowing that it’s about to happen. Instead, there’s a deep sadness emanating from them, as if grief is in their bones.
What happened to them to make them like this?
What did they endure?
Orr lifts Rachel, throwing her over his shoulder, as servants gasp to my left and right. Her dress rides up. The general Ra’al cannot stop himself. Rachel’s over Orr’s shoulder, manhandled, and he steps behind her, running his fingers up his thigh. She kicks, defiant, but Orr simply sits on the bench, putting Rachel firmly over his lap. The bench creaks horribly under his bulk. It was made for a human woman, not a five-hundred-pound warrior, and it protests.
My nipples pebble as I imagine how helpless she must feel, how I would feel if it was Krazak who had me over his lap. The image of his huge, muscled bulk keeping me pinned down while I squirm and kick is planted in my mind, and I can’t push it out, no matter how hard I try.
Rachel stops trying to kick or escape, accepting her fate. She looks at us, seemingly unashamed, and it’s the strangest thing.
I thought she’d look helpless and weak, over the lap of Orr, the white, virginal servant’s dress contrasting with the dark black robe of the alien. Instead, she looks strangely powerful, noble, and I wish I could thank her, but I have no words.
She chose this. Just as I had a tendril of lust for Krazak’s beastly triad, some part of her must feel something for the triad of Generals. They told her she was their Mate.
If that’s true, I’d trade places with her in an instant. Becoming the Fated Mate of an Aurelian triad was my deepest dream, to live thousands of years becoming so close to the aliens, and even if they were Fanatics, it would be worth it.
Orr lifts her servant’s dress, ripping her undergarments as if they are filament. My breath catches. Her slit is glistening, soaking wet. She may have traded places with me to save me from the barbarian triad, but she’s craving the harsh discipline of the species. Orr breathes in, nostrils flaring, tasting her lust just as Krazak tasted the tendril of my aching need when he pulled me against his throbbing cock.
I glance nervously at Krazak, Khra and Bolden, expecting to see anger and justice in their eyes as they watch Rachel about to be punished.
They aren’t looking at the punishment they demanded.
All three sets of slate-grey eyes are staring straight at me.
I can’t pull my gaze from them, as much as I try. I’m trapped in Krazak’s eyes as the crack of flesh on flesh fills the garden, followed by Rachel’s whimper of pain. The spanks ring out, hard and strict, and I don’t know how she handles it. I’m filled with guilt and shame, and I try to pull my eyes down, to force them to the ground, but I’m a captive in Krazak’s eyes as they widen, his nostrils flaring. Even from across the garden, I know he can taste the ripple of need rushing through my body, this aching, insistent desire.
My cheeks flush red with shame, because I know that both the triad and I are imagining that it’s me, over Krazak’s lap, kicking and screaming as he punishes me hard, until my mind melts and he succumbs to the Mating Rage and claims my innocence.
No!
I seize control of my mind and look away from them, fixing my gaze on Rachel. I can’t look away. It’s my fault she’s in this position. Tears stream down her face as she endures the brutal spanking, until Orr stops, and grazes his thumb over her slit. I shiver as he lifts the thumb to his lips, tasting her wetness, tasting the lust that built up in her body as she was punished. His cock must be rock hard, pressed against her, and he is on the verge of snapping.
That, I cannot handle. Rachel being bred in the garden, in my place, would fill me with guilt for eternity. No matter how turned on she is, she couldn’t have thought that trading herself for me would cause this.
I can feel three sets of hot grey eyes boring through my being.
“Enough.” Ra’al’s hard voice cuts through. It’s like a spell being broken.
Orr pauses, his hand poised above her red ass, his handprints on her flesh, then lifts her as if she is a doll and sits her on his lap. He’s so much bigger than her, so much broader, that she looks both completely helpless and fully protected. Orr leans in, smelling her hair, grinding her ass against his throbbing cock, and whispers something in her ear. His voice is low and growly, but I can’t make out the words, and I don’t want to.
