Free Web NovelChapter 2: Getting punished
Stefan’s POV
[TIME LIMIT: 4:53:00]
The time kept ticking and my thoughts went wild.
I almost laughed. Had it been it was back on earth I got assigned this kind of a mission, this system had handed me the easiest assignment in the world on a silver platter.
I never had to work for such things. Ladies actually used to beg to wrap their mouths around my huge cock. All I needed to do was to show them my six packs and they would be drooling.
And even if I needed to talk them into doing anything else, just a few words from my mouth would do the trick. I had talked grieving widows out of their inheritance in less time than this.
This wasn’t supposed to be difficult...
"Get on your feet." Her voice cracked through my thoughts, flat and cold, the kind of voice that had never once had to ask twice.
"Don’t make me repeat myself, slave."
I pushed up onto my elbows slower than I needed to, partly because every joint in my body still ached from whatever the System had done dragging me here, partly because I wanted the extra few seconds to actually look at her.
Up close, she was worse for my self-control than she had been from the ground. The way her jaw tightened with impatience. The way her weight shifted onto one hip, bored, unimpressed, like dealing with me was beneath whatever rank she clearly held. Even furious, she carried herself like someone who had never lost a fight in her life.
That confidence was exactly what I planned on breaking.
She crouched down again, faster this time, palm already rising for round two - to slap me again.
I didn’t think. I just grabbed.
My fingers closed around her wrist mid-swing and for one frozen second neither of us moved, her arm locked in my grip, her eyes flicking down at the contact like she couldn’t quite process that a slave had dared touch her. That second was all I needed.
Her weight was already tipped forward from the crouch. One good pull, and gravity did the rest of the work for me.
She came down hard. Chest first. Her whole body slammed into mine before either of us had decided whether that was a good idea.
Her breasts crushed against my chest, full and warm and impossible to ignore. My cock, already humiliatingly hard, pressed straight into the soft heat of her stomach, and for one heartbeat she just lay there, frozen, her face inches from mine.
I wasn’t sure if her breath caught or I had just imagined it. But I kept my hope up that I had somehow gotten a reaction from her.
I proceeded to my mission...
"You have no idea," I whispered against her ear, voice dropping into the register that had talked women in three different states into wiring me money, "how good I could make you feel. Better than any man on this planet ever has."
It was the kind of line that usually earned me a giggle, a blush, an invitation upstairs before I had even finished the sentence.
What I got instead was a fist to the gut that knocked every ounce of air out of my lungs in one violent exhale.
She shoved off me, scrambling to her feet, chest heaving - not from desire, I was fairly sure, just from outrage so pure it had nowhere else to go.
"Slaves," she bellowed, loud enough that heads turned across the clearing, "do not put their hands on me!"
She spun toward someone I still hadn’t gotten a good look at. "Strike him down." She commanded and my heart skipped a beat in fear.
An axe came off her back in one smooth motion, catching the light, and for half a second I genuinely considered the possibility that this entire mission was going to end with me dying twice in the same day.
"Wildrose." A second woman called out as she jogged into view. She was gorgeous in the same terrifying way everyone here seemed to be built, all muscle and gold skin.
And before the axe could fall, she grabbed the raised arm before the axe could fall.
"Don’t. The General will want this one alive. She has been wanting to taste a slave that isn’t from our world." A slow grin spread across her face. "You know how much she loves eating a man’s third leg."
I choked on nothing. "She - what?"
Nobody answered. Two more women appeared from somewhere, already half-shifted; fur creeping up their forearms, claws where fingernails should be and hauled me up by both arms like I weighed nothing at all.
"Where are you taking me?" I yelled it twice, my voice cracking on the second try. Nobody so much as glanced at me.
[TIME LIMIT: 4:31:00]
The number burned cold in the corner of my vision while they dragged me across open ground, my bare feet scraping against dirt and gravel I hadn’t even registered as painful yet.
~~~~~~~~~
I couldn’t determine the distance of the trip because of how fast these women walked. It was as if they could run while simply marching the ground, one step at a time. In no time, we had arrived at a clearing... A camp actually. It was like the olden days military camps that I had seen on TV.
Rows of tents stretched out farther than I could see, and between them were men. Dozens of them.
My jaw dropped when I took in their appearances. They were shackled at the ankles, heavy iron biting into skin that had clearly worn it for years, not days. Their heads were bowed so low their chins nearly touched their collarbones.
Some carried clay pot, water sloshing over the rims. Some hauled weapons while some hauling firewood twice their own bodyweight while women twice their strength walked past without a glance, like the men were furniture that happened to move on its own.
Not one of them looked up as we passed.
I had thought slave was an exaggeration when she had first said it. A scare tactic, something to make me behave.
But clearly, It wasn’t. It was just the truth.
A man near the edge of the path glanced up for half a second - just long enough to meet my eyes, before one of the women escorting me cracked a short whip against the ground beside him without even breaking stride. He dropped his gaze instantly. I didn’t see him look up again.
I swallowed something thick and bitter in my throat. Whatever I had been before I died, whatever I deserved for it, I didn’t know if I deserved this.
Hell no!
We got to the center of the camp and I was finally dropped to the ground. A wince escaped my mouth but of course, nobody cared.
The second woman who had stopped Wildrose from cutting me down earlier, didn’t spare a glance at me before walking away to a tent.
"Chain him," Wildrose snapped at the warriors besides me, her voice cutting back into focus. "Shackles on his legs. Then bring him to my tent." Her eyes cut to me, sharp enough to draw blood without a blade. "He disrespected me. I will decide personally how a slave learns better."
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked toward a tent set apart from the rest of the camp - bigger, sturdier, staked into the ground with a confidence that said this belonged to someone who gave orders, not someone who took them.
Cold iron clamped around my ankles a moment later, heavier than I expected, biting into skin that had no calluses to protect it yet.
[TIME LIMIT: 4:02:00]
If following her into that tent meant another shot at the mission, I would have crawled there even without the shackles forcing the issue.
Well, I didn’t have to crawl. Two warriors shoved me through the tent flap hard enough that I hit my knees in the dirt floor in front of her, the impact jarring up through my shins.
Wildrose sat on a low wooden chair like it was carved specifically to remind everyone who walked in here exactly where they stood. She studied me in silence first; her head tilted, gaze dragging slowly from my face down to the shackles, then back up, before she finally spoke.
"Why do you dare look up at me?" she said slowly, like she was talking to something that might not even understand language.
I held her gaze anyway. Some instinct told me that was either the smartest or the stupidest thing I could do right now, and at that point I didn’t have much left to lose either way.
I didn’t have anything clever to say. So for once, I told her the truth, just dressed up enough to still sound like a line.
"Because you’re pretty." My voice came out rougher than I meant it to. "I’ve never seen anyone like you back on Earth. You were the first woman I saw when I woke up here, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since." I let the next part drop lower, quieter, more honest than I’d planned. That part wasn’t a lie.
Something flickered behind her eyes - not understanding, not quite, but something close to it, like a word in a language she’d never been taught but almost recognized the shape of.
"I don’t understand what you just said." She said it to herself more than to me, brow furrowing, studying me the way you’d study something broken that you weren’t sure how or whether to fix. The silence stretched long enough that I started counting it.
"What punishment would actually teach a slave his place?" She wasn’t asking me. She had lifted her chin and muttered to herself.
[TIME LIMIT: 3:47:00]
Then she rose from the chair slowly, every inch of the movement designed to remind me exactly how little power I had in this tent.
I had thought she was going to try to hit me again but her next action made me gasp.
Her hands went to the clasp at her shoulder, to the light rope holding the small fabric she had used to hold together her heavy breasts...
Then she pulled and the fabric fell off, exposing her big, perky breasts on display. They were bigger, more round, than any I had seen on earth, and I had seen a lot.
Yet they stood at alert, the nipples seeming to be calling out to me.
My mouth went dry.
Wait, what kind of punishment involved stripping?
