CH 1-10

Summary

The Earth is dying, and Leina has volunteered to escape it—only to find that salvation comes with a brutal price. The alien race we once tried to destroy now controls the fate of our women, and Leina is one of the chosen few sent to bear their children… or be punished for her people’s sins. On a world where forgiveness is earned through pain, and defiance is met with collar and cane, Leina must endure public punishment, invasive trials, and an unrelenting tour of penance across a planet that hates her existence. But one alien—Samial, with eyes like fire and rules etched in stone—starts to blur the line between captor and something more dangerous. His touch sears, his discipline burns, and his gaze promises both torment and ecstasy. As she’s paraded through humiliation and desire, Leina faces a choice: submit to survive, or burn everything down and forge a fate of her own. Dark. Raw. Unapologetically sensual. The Penitent’s Pact is a sci-fi dystopian romance of brutal power, painful penance, and the aching heat of enemies turned something else entirely. Trigger warning: This book doesn’t ask for forgiveness.

Chapter 1

As I stood in line, waiting to be punished for the sins of my people, I remembered something the old folks back home always said: There’s no great gain without great pain.

I don’t think this is what they had in mind.

But maybe I should start at the beginning. Or close enough.

The scientists had warned us for decades. Change, or die. But we didn’t listen. We were too busy scrolling, shopping, screwing, pretending the floodwaters weren’t rising and the air wasn’t getting harder to breathe. We called it progress. We called it freedom. We didn’t call it what it was: extinction.

By the time we understood how far we’d fallen, it was too late. But while most of us clung to denial like a life raft, the brilliant ones got to work. Secret government funding. Underground labs. A plan B.

And fifty years ago, they pulled back the curtain.

A habitable planet. Just two years away.

Not just some barren rock. This one had air, water, forests. A second chance. Humanity wept. Hugged strangers. Reposted memes about fate and faith and fresh starts.

Then came the catch.

It wasn’t empty.

They looked… like us. Only not. Taller. Broader. Skin darker, eyes brighter. The males especially—built like gods, furred like beasts, staring through you like they could see all the rot inside and weren’t impressed. But otherwise? Two legs, five fingers, same basic plumbing. Familiar enough to ignite a thousand conspiracy theories about shared origins. Or divine design.

Didn’t matter. They didn’t want us.

They’d survived their own environmental collapse centuries ago. Controlled their population. Cleaned their planet. Earned their paradise. They saw us for what we were: the disease they’d already cured.

So they said no.

We didn’t take that well.

Desperation makes monsters of us all. We attacked. They defended. It wasn’t even close. We were fleas with nukes. They were gods with lasers. They swatted us down and sent us crawling home.

Eighteen years ago, they broke our back. Destroyed our ships. Grounded our space program. Quarantined us on our dying world. Left us to choke on our own mistakes.

And we deserved it.

But then… came the virus.

It was supposed to be subtle. Surgical. A slow-burn vengeance. Our scientists engineered a pathogen that infected their women—targeting the embryos developing as female. Male babies? Fine. Female embryos? Dead in the womb. The virus didn’t touch us. Our women could still bear children. But theirs… couldn’t. Not daughters.

No daughters meant no future. They’d tried creating female embryos from maternal DNA alone, but no womb—organic or synthetic—could carry them to term. Their women had the potential. Ours had the solution.

It was genocide. Beautifully veiled, scientifically justified, tragically effective.

Until it wasn’t.

Instead of submission, we bred rage. An entire generation of young alien males raised in mourning, with no mates, no sisters, no daughters. Just fury. And when they came of age, they did what young men do best.

They fought.

And they won.

Again.

Here’s the punchline: we created the army that destroyed us—again.

But irony has a twisted sense of humor. Because while we were parasites, we were also the only hope left for their species. Human women could carry their daughters. We could breed what they no longer could.

And so, five years ago, they returned. Not with weapons this time, but with a deal.

A one-way ticket off our dying world.

Not for all of us. Not even most. Just a select few. The healthy. The fertile. The beautiful. The brave.

Volunteers.

Every woman on Earth scrambled for the chance. A clean planet. Healthy children. A new future. But we didn’t know the price. We didn’t understand the rules. We weren’t being offered salvation.

We were being sentenced.

Because while they needed us… they still hated us.

Which is how I ended up here. Lined up with nine other women. Wearing nothing but protocol silks that clung like sin. Standing in front of a crowd that wanted our blood as much as they wanted our wombs. A trial, they called it. A cleansing. A reintroduction to their culture.

I call it what it was: a reckoning.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let me take you back—to the gray, choked streets of Earth. To the recruitment center where it all began. To the moment I signed away my old life for a chance at something new.

Something dangerous.

Something mine.

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“Streep”

I looked around at the other women standing near me in the enormous room to see if anyone else understood the single word uttered by the tall alien in front of us. Everyone seemed as confused as me.

“Streep!” He moved over to the woman nearest him and without warning yanked her shirt up and off, eliciting a shriek as she tried to cover her suddenly exposed breasts. He moved to her waist to do the same thing to her pants, but she backed up into the woman behind her and out of his reach. He growled and reached for her arm, twisting it around and behind her, forcing her to bend forward. His large hand swung down and smacked her clothed ass with a crack that made her screech. He let her go and looked up at the stunned group.

“Streep!” Suddenly his meaning became crystal clear and five hundred women moved as quickly as they could to strip off their tired-looking clothing. About half the women tried to cover their breasts with one hand and their pubic region with the other; the rest of us figured it didn’t matter.

I had said that every woman was vying for the chance to get off our planet. Obviously, not every woman could. The aliens had strict limits. Every six months, one of their ships would show up randomly across our planet, leading to a hysteria in the region. Thousands of women flocked to the recruitment centers knowing that only about one in ten would be selected.

Detailed and graphic descriptions of the exams they went through were recounted by the rejected women, often laced with bitterness towards the ones who were selected. The aliens didn’t share exactly what criteria they were using, so no one knew why one woman would be chosen and the other nine rejected.

The aliens didn’t share anything, in fact. They never spoke our language except for the odd word like “streep”. Only the few of our people who interacted with them daily spoke any part of their language. The details of exactly what would happen to us if we were picked was a closely guarded secret. Not even the women who walked out at the very end could remember what it was that made them reject the offer, and it was clear that their memories had been tampered with.

We stood in the cold room for another few minutes before a door opened and a handful of alien males walked in. Most were a lot taller than us; they all had a lot more hair all over their bodies, and some had the oddest colored eyes that I couldn’t decide were scary or captivating. Without a word, they moved among the women, firmly pulling down hands trying to cover breasts. One woman resisted, and when he gripped one of her arms firmly her hand swung up to slap his face. The sound echoed across the room in the sudden stillness.

Once again the speed at which the alien moved was astonishing. He dropped to one knee, dragged the stunned woman over the other knee, managed to pin both of her hands to the middle of her back, and smacked her bare ass with his hand. The sound reverberated around the room. He smacked and he smacked, and it didn’t take a xenobiologist to read the anger on his face. She screeched and she screamed and she tried to apologize. Eventually he dumped her on the floor. He stood up and said something in his language, and though none of us understood the words, we all got the meaning clearly.

Defiance will be punished — harshly.

Now, one thing I haven’t been clear about yet is that we were all there as volunteers. No one had to stay. The doors weren’t locked; no one had taken away our clothes. Any one of us – or all of us – could have walked out the door right then. And fourteen women did just that. But four hundred and eighty six did not, including the woman who had just been beaten.

Did I mention that we were desperate to get off our planet?

Every woman who remained held her hands at her side, some balled into fists, some holding back sobs, as the males resumed their inspections. Large hands cupped breasts. Strong fingers tweaked nipples whose owners bit back squeals more or less successfully. A few women even let out soft moans of arousal. The touches moved down from the breasts, over stomachs, to between our legs. Noises of protest were quickly stopped with a cold glare. More women picked up their clothes and fled.

The alien standing in front of me looked down at me in the eye as he cupped my mound. I made no noise until he slipped a finger between my folds and very deliberately pushed it up inside. Then I let out a squeak of protest, but mindful of the brutality I’d just witnessed, made no move to prevent him. He continued to stare at me, almost daring me, until he seemed to grow bored and moved on.

A thought occurred to me. We women were considerably smaller than these large, hairy aliens. How would we bear such large children? I had to believe that they would have figured that out – if only for the fact that the long round-trip to our planet meant we weren’t exactly disposable. So I was reassured, sort of. Truth was, I was taller and broader than most of the women here. I had hated that all my life. I was never delicate or graceful – not that grace had any place in the life of simple survival that we all lived these days. About the only benefit to being graceful was if you could catch a man’s eye and come under his protection. Which I had not. My hair was also more reddish than most, something that made me stand out too much for my own good. I know that our people used to be all colors and sizes because I saw pictures in the library once of people who looked nothing like us, who had hair of all different colors, and who were much taller than us. Between the diseases, the century-long food shortage, and the complete cloud cover over the entire planet that filtered out any direct sun, we were universally pale with light brown to blonde hair, and a lot shorter than we used to be.

There were always the odd exceptions, like me.

Finally the male who had ordered us to strip said something to the other males. They all pulled back and silently filed out of the room. He picked up a sheaf of papers and began calling out names. Each woman would exit the room as her name was called. Finally I heard mine – kind of.

“Lee-na”

I looked around for Lina but no one moved. “Lee-na”

I gathered my courage and spoke up, hoping my guess was right. “Lay-eena” I pronounced carefully. He furrowed his brow.

“Lee-na” he repeated with emphasis.

“No, Lay-eena” I repeated. My name was Leina, and he was going to pronounce it right or I wouldn’t answer to it. We stared at each other for a moment.

“Lay-eena!” he snapped, and followed it with some gibberish. I didn’t know what the hell he’d said, but he’d pronounced my name right and he sounded annoyed, so I scurried out the door.

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Dear Reader,

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for joining me on this journey. Your time means everything. If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving a comment — it’s the kind of support that keeps me going! I’ve been working on five new books since January, and I can’t wait to share them with you. More stories are coming — stay close.

With love,

Call Me Anny

Chapter 2

I found myself herded into a large room filled with exam tables already partially occupied by women flat on their backs with their knees spread. I wasn’t too surprised by this – if we were going to bear children for them it was pretty plain they would want to check out the merchandise before going to the trouble of exporting it. I was pointed to a table by another hairy male and when I settled on my back my legs were grabbed and roughly spread apart and he made a gesture that I took to mean “don’t move”. At least he hadn’t made me put my feet up in the stirrups that sat to either side of my knees. He moved on. I lay listening to the sounds of women groaning and protesting from exams I couldn’t see. Eventually I tired of having my legs spread and I let them fall off the edge of the short table to dangle while I waited. Out of nowhere two males appeared and before I realized what they were doing both feet had been tossed into the stirrups and secured. One male swung his large flat hand down onto the tender skin between my legs.

“Ow! Goddammit!” I screeched. I reared up and grabbed his hand. He growled something at the other male and my arms were yanked over my head and my wrists fastened to something. For good measure, a belt appeared from under the table and was strapped over my hips, pinning them down. I lay there looking up at them, trying to catch my breath, and once more a pair of strangely colored eyes bored into mine. More words of protest rose to my lips – my mother had taught me a number of colorful phrases during her life – but they died as he held up something large and round with a strap attached and I realized he was showing me a gag. I bit back the protest, shut my mouth firmly, and looked down, hoping that would be enough to show my obedience. He put the gag down and walked away.

Did I mention we’d volunteered for this?

For the moment, though, I was a captive. It seemed I was going to go through with this exam whether I wanted to or not. All around me the noises were increasing. Strange buzzing noises, small sounds of protest, groans as private spaces were probed, and remarkably, sounds of what seemed to be women unsuccessfully stifling orgasms.

Oh, great. I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the noises coming from all around me. There were other slaps and screeches, sounds of protest, and more than one “The hell with this! I’m done!” followed by a slamming door.

After an eternity, I sensed the presence next to me and took a peek. Two of the large males stood over me, including the one with the strange eyes. There was a tray of equipment at their side. The male with the eyes wasted no time picking up a syringe and advancing in my direction. I tried to pull away but it was fruitless and the needle went in my arm. It didn’t really hurt; it was the principle of the thing, you see; injecting me with something before discussing it was kind of rude. As soon as he was done he pulled on a glove and inserted a large finger right up the channel between my legs. He wasn’t particularly gentle as he probed. After a pause a

second finger joined the first. I was feeling weirdly full. His other hand pushed on my stomach as though he was trying to get the two hands to meet in the middle. A third finger shoved its way in and I groaned. He smiled as he pulled that third finger out and I suddenly felt it at my much smaller entrance below.

“Oh, no, shit!” I yelped as the finger pushed its way in to my rear despite my desperate attempt to keep it out. That particular kind of sex had never appealed to me. I tried to pant to ignore the confusing sensations running rampant through the lower half of my body. “That doesn’t have anything to do with having a baby and you know it, you pervert!”

He frowned at my angry tone and since I couldn’t stop him anyway, I changed tactics. “You know what? You’re a first-class sonofabitch,” I said conversationally, my tone now giving away no hint of rebellion. “I’ll bet you do this to your sister, too, don’t you?” His smile didn’t falter as he probed deep inside. I tried to thrust my hips up to relieve the pain but the strap around my hips stopped me. “If I ever meet you in a dark alley,” I continued with a smile on my face, “I’ll do my best to twist your balls around your neck until you scream.”

His gaze was locked onto mine, one edge of his mouth quirked up. He’s enjoying this! my mind registered, as his thumb started to massage my clit. Now I really wanted to buck up off the table but I couldn’t. He seemed to know exactly how to rub that small spot – not too hard, not too soft, and maybe it was the intensity of his gaze, or the presence of his fingers, but something caused me to rocket up to the top in record speed.

And there he stopped, pulled his fingers out, and left me hanging on the precipice. This time I made no effort to hide my feelings. “Bastard!” I screeched, trying to squirm around enough to finish the job, oblivious to the stares and attention my outburst had generated.

“I tell you– ” his accent was thick but completely understandable, “– my father and my mother were legally bound before I was born. And I do not have sister, but if I did I put her across my knee and spak her hard for using such bad words.”

My mouth dropped open. We’d always been told the aliens had a great disdain for speaking our language, and indeed, his colleagues looked angry at him for talking to me.

“We finish?” he asked. “There are more.” He didn’t wait for my reply, but reached over to the small table and picked up something that looked like a really big dildo with a long cord

attached. Suddenly his three fingers didn’t seem like a big deal.

He must have decided I was fun to talk to because he continued. “I put my – what are these?” He held up his hand and wiggled it.

“Fingers,” I managed to squeeze out.

“Fin-gers. Yes. I put my fin-gers inside you to see if you are wet. You become quite wet.”

I didn’t know what to say to an observation like that.

He proceeded to place the large probe at the entrance to my cunt. My eyes widened at the feel.

“That’s too big!”

“It is as big as we are.” I swear he looked amused. “Do you not want to find out now if you can open to our, um, big-ness?” he asked awkwardly. Again he didn’t wait for an answer but increased the pressure, and my traitorous folds obligingly parted. I began to pant as I felt the huge object slide up inside. I was stretched beyond anything I’d ever felt. I was also aroused beyond anything I’d ever felt.

“And now we give you a — hmm, I do not remember the word — to see what all the parts inside do.” He pointed to a screen on the table that showed what I assumed were my insides. Apparently the dildo doubled as a camera.

What is he going to do now? I wondered, when his fingers started their dance on my clit again and my question was answered. I knew he was going to finish it this time, and it was going to be big, courtesy of the thing shoved between my legs, and I really didn’t want to do this in public, so I pushed the impending orgasm back, as hard as I could. Suddenly I felt a hard slap on one breast. The sensation was enough to pitch me over the edge. I screamed.

As I came down and began to breathe again, it was obvious they were no longer paying attention to me. Well, not to my emotional state, that is. They were gathered around the screen that showed my insides and were talking rapidly back and forth. An argument began, with both males gesticulating wildly and occasionally pointing to me. Finally the one who had not spoken to me shook his head and packed up the equipment, and walked away. I was alone with the male with strange eyes.

“Lee-na, we have decided–” “It’s Lay-eena.”

His hairy brow furrowed for just a moment and he looked like he was about to reprimand me. Instead he nodded. “Lay-eena, we wish to offer you a new home.”

I stared at him. “Seriously?” I gasped.

He looked confused. “What is seriously?” “You are telling me the truth?”

Now he really looked angry. “I do not lie, and if you ever suggest that again I will spak you.

Hard.”

“Spank.”

“What?”

“You keep saying ‘spak’. It’s spank. You’ll spank me, hard.”

He looked as though that’s what he wanted to do right then, so I backed up a bit. “I’m sorry.

I have trouble keeping my mouth shut sometimes.”

“You will want to learn that. There are many men on our planet and they do not like to be challenged.” He freed all my straps and abruptly pulled me up to a sitting position. “Take this–” he shoved a folder into my hand “–and go over there.” He pointed in a different direction than the fleeing women had gone.

I took a last look at him and with a deep breath, I walked over to the door. My whole life was about to change.

Chapter 3

That was how I found myself on a spaceship headed for another planet. I had been ready to go the moment I’d walked through the door of the processing room. There was no one to say a final goodbye to, no one who would care that I’d never be back.

Dad died when I was nine. Mom tried to keep us together, but it was tough. My brother was always sick from the foul air – many people were – and Mom couldn’t afford the medication to help him breathe easier. In desperation she turned to one of the numerous gangs that pretty much ruled our city, begging for help, and they looked her over and agreed to give her what she needed, for a price.

No, not that kind of price. Get your mind out of the gutter. Mom was an accountant. She was a genius with numbers. They took her in to “keep their books” and in exchange for each day of work she took home one day’s worth of medication for my brother. Incredibly, he got better and better. He was able to cut down on the medication, and after about a year, he had weaned himself off it. Mom could quit, right?

No. She made the mistake of telling them, very respectfully, that she was grateful for the help they’d provided, but since he did not need the medication any longer, she was quitting. And on her way home they killed her.

Soon after that, my brother, now a young man, felt his destiny lay in the direction of a rival gang. He took all the meager food from our apartment, left me a note, and disappeared. That was three years ago. Since then I had survived doing odd jobs, working a while here and there.

So you see, there was no one, save a few friends who didn’t really care, to lament my sudden disappearance.

Anyhow, after I walked through the next door, I was subjected to a whole new round of examination of the more conventional kind. I was measured, my eyes and ears were tested, and I received at least five more injections of who knows what. At last they were done and I’d been issued a white gown of some kind and still no other women had walked through the door.

Apparently I’d been picked really early in the screening process. They finally left me alone and I sat down to look at them for the first time.

Well, the females, at least. I’d seen enough of the males for a while. The females were taller and broader than even our men were, though I saw some who were almost our size, and some who were as big as their males. They had various skin colors as well – some dark, some less dark; none as light as most of us were. And those funny colored eyes.

I’d been staring at the females so intently that I think it unnerved them. One of them came

over to me, spoke something unintelligible, and pointed to another room. It turned out to be an exam room with a padded table. She pushed me in and closed the door. I sat there, bored, listening to the sounds of the other room getting crowded, probably with more candidates at last. Eventually I got sleepy and since the table was decently soft I lay down. I’d been up since dawn yesterday waiting in the line at the recruitment center and I was terribly tired.

Visions of large males ran through my head. What would it be like to have sex with one of them? If that dildo was real, they were almost twice as big as the men of my planet, who were admittedly not all that beefy in general from years and years of food rationing. I began to fade away…

Suddenly the door banged open and the alien with the strange eyes filled the entrance.

Without a word he stepped in and shut the door behind him. He had a look in his eyes that was almost predatory – hungry – and it frightened me. I scooted as far up on the table as I could go, my back against the wall, and very conscious that the white gown I was wearing hid nothing from his gaze. He moved towards me and paused at the end of the bed.

“Leina,” he growled. That was the only word he said as he reached out. My knees had been pulled up under my chin, and with agonizing slowness, he grabbed my ankles and pulled my legs straight. He continued to pull with a gentle firmness that sent the message clearly that he was taking charge, but only if I didn’t protest. I didn’t protest. Now my ass was being pulled forward and I threw my arms out to each side to steady myself as he dragged me closer to the end of the table. He stopped the pulling, holding my legs with one hand while the other reached towards me and nudged my chest backwards until I lay flat on the table. The pull finally stopped when my butt was at the edge of the bed, just like it had been out in the other room, but here there were no stirrups for my feet.

I didn’t need stirrups for what he had in mind. With his gaze fixed intently on my face, he lifted my legs up and apart. He’d seen all of my “bits” already, but somehow, this time, it was a whole different level of intimate. His arms slid under my calves and his hands rested on the edge of the table, pinning my legs between his body and the table. He grinned as my eyes widened with the realization of what he was about to do, and sure enough, he bent his head down to place a soft kiss on the damp skin between my legs.

I gasped as the whole area flooded with arousal.

He continued to kiss the skin lightly, murmuring words in his language that sure sounded nice. Then, with another glance up at my wide eyes, he swept his tongue between the folds, bottom to top, right over my clit. I screeched. He frowned and his eyes flicked towards the closed door. I understood. I bit my lip and nodded. He repeated the motion and this time I held my cry inside as the pleasure swept over me. I felt his tongue seek the entrance to my core; the sensation of his tongue probing further down than any boyfriend had reluctantly tried to reach before almost sent me over the edge. But not quite. What did it was when he took my clit

between his teeth and worried it. This time I could not hold in the scream as I pitched over the edge of the orgasm and shuddered down the other side and the door behind us banged open to reveal the shocked stare of a medical worker…

My eyes flew open. I was gasping. My hand was between my legs, the fingers wet with my juices. I looked around frantically for the alien but the room was empty. All I saw was a sprawl of papers across the floor.

They must have been placed next to me while I was sleeping, been knocked off by my, um, writhing, and as they hit the floor the bang inserted itself into an otherwise really great dream.

A dream. Dammit, why are the best experiences of my life always in my dreams?

Whatever, I sighed. What interested me now was the lack of noise beyond the door. Curious, I slipped off the table and peeked out into the room. It was empty. I muttered an expletive that would have for sure gotten my bottom spakked.

“Hello?” My voice echoed in the empty room. I padded over to the door that led back to the big hall we’d been examined in. With relief I saw people. Well, not exactly people. It was a couple of the aliens with their back to me, arguing about something.

“Hello?” Their heads flew up. One of them broke off from the group and came to me almost at a run. It was the alien I’d just dreamed about. I felt my face color bright red. He muttered something that this time sounded like an expletive in his language.

“Why are you here?” he demanded.

“Don’t get mad at me! Someone put me in a room and I fell asleep ’cause I was bored and now everyone is gone! Where is everyone?”

“They are on the ship. You are late.” He grabbed my arm and hauled me in a different direction. Then he stopped.

“Where are your papers?” “What papers?”

“The papers you signed about what you will do!”

“I didn’t get any papers! I’ve been in that little room the whole time!”

He stared at me. “Stay here.” He ran back to the smaller room, emerging a moment later with the thick packet of papers and a loose light blue dress. He thrust them at me and grabbed my arm again to resume his haul.

We stumbled down a long corridor, went up an elevator, then down another hall, and came to a large door. He pressed a few glowing buttons and the door pulled up and we were over the threshold and into someplace that had metal walls and pipes and a loud thrumming noise.

Holy crap! I’m on the ship! I didn’t have time to admire the decor as he resumed the drag down another hall. Eventually we turned the corner and I literally ran into the chest of a large hairy male. Well, they were all hairy. Anyhow, he said something to “my” alien, and the two of them started arguing.

Why was everyone always arguing over me?

“My” alien turned and disappeared and the other hairy male now took his opportunity to drag me until we got to another door. It opened and this time I finally saw who was coming with me.

There were about fifty women, all dressed in the same loose blue dress as me, and most of them looking miserable and tear-stained. Considering that they had all just said goodbye to their families for the rest of their lives, I understood. As much as I missed my mother, I was glad she wasn’t out there with the other families, crying her heart out.

The room was large with small sleeping alcoves lining the sides. In the middle were tables with long benches. I assumed this was to be our accommodation for the long trip, though I had no idea how long it would be.

I wasn’t begrudging the weeping and wailing that was going on, but I didn’t exactly feel like participating, so I found an unoccupied corner of a table. I slipped the dress over my head – it was pretty shapeless and went to my knees – and wiggled off the white exam gown that was underneath. I guess underwear and shoes were optional where we were going. Then I sat down to read what I’d missed. I didn’t have a chance to look at anything before a loud buzz startled us all and a voice came out of the walls, announcing something we didn’t understand.

A moment later the whole ship began vibrating. There was a feeling of enormous power all around us and I realized we were taking off. The weeping and wailing began anew. Me? I was kind of sad that I couldn’t take a last look at the place that had been home my whole life, but that was pretty much it.

I started to look at the packet again. I sighed as I realized this wasn’t going to be easy. I can read, but there’s something funny about my brain and sometimes words look different to me than they do to everyone else. Sometimes a word looks like a color. Sometimes the letters are all mixed up and I have no idea what I’m looking at.

Anyhow, I picked up enough of the beginning of the packet to find out that I could never come back to my home. Yeah, well, I kinda figured that. Then there was the part about a month of studying their language, and something else I wasn’t sure about that might have been the word ‘discipline’, then a year in space sleep before we arrived. The language part worried me – I

needed to learn it, obviously, but I’m a verbal learner. It wasn’t going to be easy if we had to learn from written stuff.

The next part was more interesting. I would be expected to give birth to at least three children, all of them female thanks to an injection I’d already received (that explained one of the injections – but not the five others). They could be alien babies, planted inside me to carry to term and then returned to the biological parents, or I might have male something-or–other put inside to create a baby. The translation was a bit dicey, but I think the word was supposed to be ‘sperm’. That baby would be hybrid, and I could raise that baby with the mate who had purchased me during the auction at the end of the Tour.

Purchased me??

I began reading it again, struggling with my own issues and the crappy translation. Yes, a sale of females. I was going to be auctioned to the highest bidder to bear his children.

I closed my eyes and let my head fall to the table.

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Hey you — yes, you!

Thank you for reading this far. Seriously, it means more than you know. If you can, drop a comment and let me know your thoughts. I’ve got five books cooking behind the scenes (since January!), and your feedback gives me all the motivation I need to keep going. Stay tuned — things are just heating up.

Always,

Call Me Anny

Chapter 4

I took a few minutes to collect my thoughts. Did I really think we’d be allowed to settle in and pick a mate at our leisure? These aliens meant business, and I’m sure we would all be pregnant pretty continuously for the next three years at least. I did cheer up when I realized that in order to have healthy babies, they had to keep us healthy, so were probably physically safe.

After we were done? Well, that was a good question that I hoped someone had asked.

I sat up to continue reading. The next section was titled “The Tour.” It started out with a recap of the ugly highlights between our two races. There was a lengthy list of atrocities that we had committed against them, the most egregious being the one that had resulted in me being on this ship.

I had to take a break because my head was hurting. I was catching most of the common words, and fortunately the translation was overly simple, but the effort was exhausting.

“You okay?” A voice startled me. I looked up to see a petite woman. Like most of my people, she had pale yellow-brown hair and almost translucent skin. I say petite because she was a good deal smaller than me and I wondered how she would carry one of their children.

“Yeah. Pretty much. I just got to this part and I had to stop for a minute.” It was reflex to not admit my struggle in front of anyone else. Not knowing how to read was excused in society; having learning problems was a sign of weakness. “I didn’t get to see these papers until just now.”

“You didn’t? So you don’t know any of this?” I shook my head.

“Wow. Well, when we had the meeting and they got to this part, almost everyone got up and walked out. They had a much smaller group to pick from after that. I guess we were all the most desperate.” She smiled wanly.

“But if a lot of women heard about all this and then left, how come no one on the planet knows about it?”

“The aliens make the memories of the last few hours fade away for all the women that left.”

That explained a lot – and showed their level of technology to be even higher than I thought it was. But I needed to read this next part that had freaked everyone out so badly. “Hey – um, what’s your name? I’m Leina.”

“Adelen.” We took each other’s hand for a moment.

“If you don’t mind, Adelen, I need to read this and make sure I understand it all.” I had a bad feeling about it.

She smiled and wandered away.

I resumed my struggle. The first time through, I was sure I had read things really wrong. I had to read it three or four times to make sure I wasn’t missing out on the words that would make this all okay. In the end, though, I finally understood what I was headed for. If I had known this earlier, like before we left the planet, I might just have been one of the women who got up and walked out.

Final Agreement on the Importation of Females to Bear Children

This is the final agreement of the United Regions concerning the importation, treatment, and disposition of female aliens brought to our planet to bear children.

Whereas the facts of their atrocities are not in doubt;

Whereas our people find themselves in desperate need of what only our enemies can supply; Whereas these females must be kept safe from harm while they carry our children;

Whereas the anger of our people against these females as representatives of their people is great and their safety is in jeopardy if that anger has no outlet;

We have arranged for the following Penitence Tour:

1.Upon arrival, each group of females, consisting of no more than ten in each group, will travel to one city in each of the ten regions, arriving approximately every five days.

2.Each woman will receive a public punishment of a corporal manner in each city, the exact manner to be chosen by popular vote of the citizens.

4.The physical effects of the punishment will last no longer than five days so that the female is adequately recovered to be received in the next city. Breaking the skin is forbidden. Marks that remain on the skin after five days that are not the result of cuts or bleeding are permitted.

5.Each region pledges that once that female has been punished for the actions of her race she is safe from further harm, and that any physical assault upon her will be treated the same as an assault on our women, punishable up to and including execution. Assault upon a woman carrying a child that results in the loss of that child is also punishable up to and including

execution.

By the time I finished reading this I felt like throwing up. And then my anger rose up, threatening to spill over into rash action. At that moment the door opened and an alien male rolled in a cart that held something that rose steamy and fragrant to our noses, and it dawned on me that it had been a very long time since I’d eaten. But I had bigger issues and as soon as he had unloaded the cart and its contents I turned on him.

“How dare you! I had no idea what you fuckers had planned and I never got to choose before you dragged me on board! I am not here willingly and I will not participate in whatever sick things you have planned! I want this ship turned around now!” I knew that last demand was pure wishful thinking, but I had to say it anyway.

He was a small male, and I am a tall woman, so we almost saw eye-to-eye. I think he considered trying to tackle and restrain me, but then thought better of the idea and fled out the door. I tried to follow him but it was locked. Of course.

The other women were looking at me with wide eyes. One gathered the courage to speak. “How can you be here against your will? They gave us so many chances to leave!”

I flopped down on a bench and gave a brief explanation of the events. When I was done, I worked up the courage to ask, “So what else did I miss being informed about?”

“You heard about the Penitence Tour, right?” “Oh, yeah. Just got done reading about that one.” “And the auction?”

I nodded.

“You know that if you get pregnant by any of the males while on the Tour you get to leave it early? And you become his mate.”

“No, that’s a new one. So the males can screw us whenever they want?”

She nodded. “They have to have permission from you. But it’s part of the compensation they get for making a two-year round-trip journey and then staying with us for the Tour.”

“And you’re okay with that?” I asked in disbelief.

“It’s your choice – they can’t force themselves on you. They were clear about that. They can

test us the day after it happens to see if we got pregnant or not, and we get to leave immediately as their mate if we are. I’m not thrilled with the idea, but I’m off our filthy, used up planet, and it’s worth it, to me. Ten punishments, some screwing around with male aliens with some amazing dicks, and then settling down to have a real family with a real future? I can do it.”

She had a point.

But so did I, and when the door behind us opened I jumped up and turned around, ready to let loose a string of colorful suggestions. The words died in my throat as I saw the object of my embarrassing fantasy walk in.

“Leina,” he said – correctly, I might add – “we speak in the hall?”

I marched out into the hall, ready to do battle, and before I could open my mouth, he opened his.

“We made mistake and I am sorry.”

My indignation died on my lips. In my experience, men – or males – don’t usually apologize. Especially big ones. I leaned back against the wall and crossed my arms, my anger in check for the moment.

“I can give you two choices. You can go in the space sleep now. When we get to our planet, you stay on the ship, sleeping, and you go back to your planet and it will be two years. You will not come down to our planet. Or, you can choose to be with the other females. You study language and when we get to our planet you will come down and be home after the Tour.”

I had to admit, the offer was fair. “Can I think about it while I eat? It’s been a couple of days since I had enough food.”

His eyes widened. “What you say is true?”

“Are you suggesting that I lie?” I said with a smile.

“It is possible. Now go and eat.” He opened the door to the room.

I let out an indignant squeak and in response he spakked my bottom and gently pushed me through the door. It closed, and he was gone.

Chapter 5

I finished reading the papers. There was more about obedience and discipline that I kind of understood. The details of the punishments on the Tour were kind of vague, the only promises being that nothing would hurt us permanently or interfere with our ability to be their broodmares.

OK, I made that last part up. Regardless, after wrestling with myself I realized that the girl who’d told me what I’d missed – Trinay was her name – was right. It was better than the option of going back. They made a big deal of having me sign the papers in front of witnesses.

I found out the word ‘discipline’ wasn’t an awkward translation. The one task we had while we were awake was to learn their language, and we were expected to work on it almost every moment, and expected to learn quickly. If a student couldn’t answer perfectly, she was ordered to stand up, lean over the table, and grab the hands of the girl across from her. Our teacher – a towering, slender woman with grey hair – would apply punishment with a thin stick that appeared like magic out of her sleeve and into her hand, and left painful red welts after just the barest of touches to our upturned asses. They hurt horribly, and the frequency with which they occurred ensured that most of us were sitting pretty uncomfortably almost every day.

My ass, though, won the prize. I couldn’t understand the written lessons. The letters of their alphabet were just doodles on a page. I couldn’t put a sound to them, or string them together to make a simple word. I did pretty good at understanding the questions she asked because I began to recognize the same words I heard over and over, but I couldn’t supply the answers. I usually received ten to fifteen ‘touches’ every day, which made sitting unbearable. A few times she looked at the welted skin on my butt and the backs of my thighs and decided to punish me on the front of my thighs instead.

I only resisted a punishment once. The end result was that I was bound tightly over the table, punished, and then left there while the lesson went on to my right and my left. Every time she walked past me I would get another touch. I spent most of the afternoon like that, crying on and off with the pain on my backside and from being bent over for so long.

I tried so hard to study. I was really good at helping the other girls with pronunciation, because all the strange tongue and lip movements came easily to me, but I would not admit to anyone that I couldn’t read.

It came to a head one day. I’d already received ten ‘touches’ before lunch and was standing up for number eleven when the door opened and the food cart was pushed in by the same small male. Recklessly I wriggled out of the teacher’s grasp and ran for the door, slipping through just as it shut. I had no idea what to do so I turned left and started running, looking for a place to hide. Halfway down the hall there was an open door and I barreled through it, finding myself in

a small closet of supplies.

Upon hearing voices coming towards me I ducked down between two boxes, finding a small recessed alcove behind them that was hidden from view. I curled up in a little ball and rocked back and forth, stifling a moan at the pain from the welts on my ass, and crying. I don’t cry very often. It’s another sign of weakness, but I was at the end of what I could handle. And the only thing I had to wipe my nose with was the damn shift I was wearing.

I’d been there maybe ten minutes when a loud buzz startled me and the voice came out of the walls like before. I couldn’t understand the announcement, but I did catch the word “Lee-na”.

Yup. They were looking for me. I stifled a giggle at the absurd thought that I wasn’t going to come out until they said my name correctly. Then I sobered. This wasn’t going to end well for me, I knew.

I heard someone open the door and I crouched smaller, willing the light shining on the boxes to stay away from me. The light withdrew without finding me and the door closed.

I was dozing off out of boredom when a voice suddenly erupted from the walls once more. ”Lay-eena,” the voice began. There was only one person who said my name right. “This is

Samial. You are scared. I want to talk to you. Just talk, no spakking. Seriously.”

Despite my fear and fatigue, I felt a bubble of laughter rise up.

“If you come out then I will come to get you. The guards will not hurt you. Seriously.”

I knew I wasn’t going to get any better offer than this, so I rose stiffly from my hiding place and approached the door.

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Thank you so much for being here. Truly.

If this chapter stirred something in you, I’d love to hear about it in the comments — your words mean everything. I’ve been hard at work on five other books since January, and trust me, you won’t want to miss them. Let’s keep going, together.

With all my heart,

Call Me Anny

Chapter 6

Ten minutes later Samial, with a grip of iron on my wrist, opened the door to his quarters and pulled me inside. As soon as the door shut, he let loose what I assumed was a combination of swear words and expressions of deep frustration. After getting it all off his chest, he switched languages.

“Why did you run?” he demanded.

“Because of this!” I yelled back at him, pulling up my shift to give him a close-up of the angry red and purple lines that covered my ass, and the backs and fronts of my thighs. His eyes were wide.

“I’m trying! I just can’t do it like she wants me to do it!” The tears came back and I sank to the floor, trying to get control of my anger. I felt him sit down in front of me.

“Leina, tell me what you mean. You can tell me the truth. Seriously.”

Despite it all, I giggled and raised my head. “You need to stop using that word so much.” He smiled back. “Do you wish to talk about spakking instead?”

“No!” I shook my head, knowing he was teasing me. “Then tell me.”

Even sitting on the floor he towered over me. I felt small and fragile next to him. For the first time in my life, I thought it might be nice, just for a little while, to have someone take care of me, instead of being all alone. The feeling intensified when his very large hand, darker than mine and liberally covered in fine dark hair, reached out to take my small, pale, hairless hand into his.

“I’ve always had problems reading.” I’d never admitted that to anyone ever before. I told him about my struggles with the written lessons. “Someone tried to help me when I was younger but my mother was the one who sat with me for hours and hours until I could finally understand most of what I saw. Any change in a word, though, like from singular to plural, means I have to learn it all over again. But I don’t have any problems understanding when someone speaks. I understood the teacher very clearly when she said she hated teaching us because all we were good for is pushing out babies and anything else was a waste of time.”

He stared at me for a moment then stood up abruptly. “I will talk to someone. You will stay here.” He pointed to the floor where I was sitting, and then he pulled something from his pocket

and walked into the next room.

I looked around, interested to get my first glimpse of alien decor. The room was surprisingly small and un-exotic. A low platform that was surely his bed had wrinkled blankets on the top. A pile of papers sat on a table. Cloth items – his clothes, I assumed – lay on one soft-looking chair. I suppose since the aliens have the same kinds of bodies we do, it was natural for them to develop tables and chairs and beds that were similar to ours. All of it, though, was one size bigger than what I was used to. I probably could curl my entire body up in that soft, cushioned chair – and suddenly that desire was so overwhelming that without thinking I rose and walked over to it. In a moment, I was curled up in its embrace.

“Leina!” I must have dozed off. When my eyes flew open, he was standing over me, looking angry. “Where did I tell you to stay?”

“What? I just got tired of sitting on the floor so I came over here.” “Where did I tell you to stay?”

“Right there,” I pointed, “but I didn’t think it was an order, oh tall and hairy one.” He blinked at me, his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out the words.

“I do not know those words, but the way you say them is disrespectful. I do not like disrespect and you will stop it now or I will punish you.”

“Who died and made you the boss?” I don’t know why I was acting so reckless.

Without warning I was lifted bodily from the chair and held shrieking in the air as he took my place. Then I found myself face down on his lap, my arms dangling down towards the carpet way below, and my feet kicking in mid-air. His arm, as solid as a tree trunk, wrapped around my waist and pinned me more tightly than any bonds could.

“Let me go!” I shouted, clawing at his massive legs. I managed to place some nice red scrapes on the skin with my fingernails before he captured both wrists and pinned them to the small of my back. I struggled furiously, calling him every name that my mother had taught me and a few that I made up on the spot, but he seemed to barely notice.

Eventually I ran out of steam, and hung awkwardly over his knees while he remained still. “Are we done yet?” I asked.

“You will tell me you are sorry.” “Sorry for what?”

“Disrespect.”

I sighed. I just wanted to get upright again. “Sorry.” “Use more words, please.”

I twisted around as much as I could to look up at him. “Seriously?” His mouth twitched, I swear it did. “Seriously.”

“I’m sorry I disrespected you.” “More.”

“Oh, come on!”

He remained silent.

“I’m sorry I didn’t stay on the floor like you told me to and disrespected you.” “That is good. Now we can begin to punish.”

“What???” I screeched, as his massive hand came down with a thwack right on top of the lines left by the teacher’s cane. I howled in agony. “Stop please I said I’m sorry please that hurts so bad, please…”

“Punishments hurt. You will remember to obey next time.” His hand stroked my flaming skin for a moment while I caught my breath. “Five more will make you remember.”

“No, please stop, I can’t do th–” My sentence was cut off by the next strike of his palm, slightly lower than the last. I howled again and struggled furiously and couldn’t move an inch. He struck the third blow, this one right where my legs met my ass. I was writhing and fighting and begging as the fourth one landed at the top of my thighs. I know he gave me two more but it was all a blur of pain, the smacks landing with complete accuracy on the red raised wheals placed yesterday and today, and magnifying the pain ten-fold.

By this time I was hyperventilating. I felt his hand on my back, rubbing with a light touch until I had caught my breath, and then with the same ease that he had put me face down, he turned me over and sat me up. I hissed with pain as my flaming backside made contact with the rough material of his clothes but I didn’t fight him. Our size difference made me feel like a little girl. He kept his arm around me as I wobbled and made shushing noises and the last of my sobs made their way out.

“Now, we start over?”

I nodded, not really understanding what he meant but not wanting to disagree.

He helped me stand up, holding me steady until my legs could support me. I turned to face him and realized with surprise that while he was sitting, we were actually at eye-level. Those odd-colored eyes stared into my soul.

“Now, no more books for you.”

My eyebrows shot up with surprise.

“You will go to class but you will listen only. Do you think that will help you learn?” I nodded. If I could concentrate on just listening, I would pick things up faster.

“The teacher will ask you questions, but not from the book. If you do not answer correctly, she will punish you like the other females.”

I gulped and nodded.

“And every night, you will come here and we will talk in my language only.” I nodded slowly, unsure of how I felt about that.

“We will do this until you go into space sleep.”

“Okay.” My voice was small. “Sir.” It just seemed like the right thing to add. He looked puzzled. “What is ‘Sir’?”

“It is a word – a name – of respect.”

He smiled. “We have that kind of word, too. I will teach it to you tonight.”

And he did. He taught me many words. He taught me about his planet, and some of the history, and customs. He told me how they had pulled the planet back from the brink of environmental collapse and the austerity they had to embrace that kept the planet healthy. Yes, they had a sizable space program, and scientific advances beyond anything I’d ever heard of, but most people lived fairly simply, and there were few communities that were more than large towns.

He spoke of the loneliness that the mothers had when there were no daughters to fuss over and the sadness that permeated them because of the certainty that there would never be any grandchildren. The only thing he wouldn’t talk about was the Tour or the punishments we’d be facing.

He refused to speak anything but his language, and any time I spoke one word of mine he lifted my shift and swatted my bare butt. A butt that remained sore for the next three weeks from the accumulated welts I continued to get from the teacher. But now there were only two or three a day, just like the other women.

As a side note, I thought it interesting that our teacher herself moved stiffly and refused to sit down for the next two days, looking exactly like one of us after a day of ‘touches’.

As a teaching strategy I can’t recommend harsh punishment to facilitate long-term learning, but as far as learning a new language in only one month, it did work. Other males came in to the room during the day to talk to us and we began to tell them apart. By the time they settled us for space sleep, we were able to understand most of what they said and speak enough to get along.

It had been easy to ignore what was coming up while we were so focused, and perhaps that was their strategy. But as we lay back in the strange special beds that would keep us safe for most of a year, our thoughts turned to what was next.

Chapter 7

I don’t remember anything about the rest of the journey, other than the dreams. Dreams of alien males overpowering me, taking me, holding me down, ravaging me with cocks so large I cried out in a pleasure-pain that in my dreams seemed to go on forever. I also dreamed of being punished – caning, spanking, and other torments that were unspeakable. Rather than terrifying me, they aroused me with a pleasurable fear I would never admit to. The result, though, was that when I woke almost a year later, I didn’t emerge from sleep with a dread of what was to come, but a terrible fascination and anticipation that made no sense when examined in the light of day.

I’d been moved from the container back to my bed. I understood that many of the alien males had stayed awake to look after us as the journey progressed. The miracle of space sleep was that there was no wasting of muscle, no need to eat, or to eliminate. In fact, I felt healthier before I went to sleep.

I wandered out to the common room to see about half the women gathered around the table. I was told to shower and then join them. There was a silence as the rest of the women trickled in and we all contemplated what came next.

We didn’t have to wait long. The door opened and ten males filed in to stand facing us, Samial among them. They looked at us without expression. An unusually tall, broad male, easily twice as big as me, stepped forward. I knew he was Kinin, the male in charge of everything. Now that we could understand their language, it was fairly easy to follow him as he talked. Part of me wished I didn’t understand him.

“We’ve arrived. From this moment on, you will speak our language only, and absolute obedience is expected. Am I clear?”

We all nodded hesitantly. “Strip.”

We’d expected this, so there was little hesitation as we slid out of our shifts. At a motion from Kinin, we passed them all up to the front where they disappeared behind the males.

“Kneel.”

This word caught us by surprise, so we all hesitated while we translated the word and realized what he had ordered. One by one we sank down. The process was sped up as several males moved into the cluster of women, produced those same thin sticks the teacher had, and applied them to the backs of the legs of the slowest women. With screeches and protests, we were soon settled more or less on our knees. The rest of the males moved among us, dropping shiny circles

on the floor in front of each woman.

“These are the collars and cuffs which you will wear for the duration of the Tour.” Before us lay one large and four small shiny circles and I stared at them with a sick dread, not daring to reach out and touch them until I was told to. I could literally see women translating the words in their head and looking back up one by one as the meaning came to them.

There was another long speech that took some effort to understand – something about the collars not being removable, that they could track us if we ran, and that we might find danger among aliens who didn’t know us. I’m pretty sure I caught the word that meant “discipline” and by now we all understood that one.

He then mimed placing the collar around our necks and tightening them so that one finger could still slip in, and then the same with the wrist and ankle cuffs. He paused and looked at us expectantly.

I picked up my collar. It was made of a thin, flexible metal, the edges lined with a small strip of something soft. One end had a flat button on it, the other did not. The two ends overlapped each other and I could feel a magnetic tug as I pulled the edges apart and brought it to my neck. The wrist and ankle cuffs all had a ring attached that projected out but could be folded back.

I think the collar made it all real suddenly. My hands shook and my stomach churned and I started breathing funny. I couldn’t put it around my neck. I held it in front of me, my eyes closed, long past when I should have, and suddenly felt a presence before me. I looked up – way up – to see Samial staring down at me. He gave a slight nod. Somehow I knew he was telling me that I could do this. Though tears spilled out of my eyes at the same time, I placed the collar around my neck and overlapped the two ends at the back, pushing them hard until the collar was tight. The magnetics held it in place. I looked up at Samuel again, barely able to see him through my tears. He smiled and leaned over, his finger seeking some give between the collar and my neck, and not finding any, loosened it slightly. He picked up the cuffs and motioned to my wrists. I held them out to him, grateful for the assistance. My eyes were squeezed tight as I felt the metal encircle my wrists, felt him loosen them slightly, and then felt him repeat the movements with my ankles.

All around me women were having the same struggles. The aliens moved among them, quietly this time, almost gently assisting shaking hands to make the right adjustments. Then they all pulled out small tools and after checking the tightness once more, touched the tool to the button on the back of the collars and cuffs. I heard a small click each time.

Each woman, five clicks. Five clicks that meant there was no going back.

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Dear Reader,

Every time someone finishes a chapter, my heart grows a little. Thank you for reading. If you’ve enjoyed it so far, your comments mean the world to me — they’re the fuel that keeps me writing. I’ve been working on five new books since January, and trust me… we’re just getting started.

Warmly,

Call Me Anny

Chapter 8

The fear was palpable in the silence of our group as we descended to the planet’s surface only an hour later. The shuttle made stop after stop, and each time ten women would be separated from the group and herded out the door. Finally it was time for the group I was in to leave and as the door opened, light poured onto us. I’d never dreamed the sun could be this bright because our world had been uniformly light or dark gray from the ever-present clouds. I found out later that during our space sleep our eyes had been exposed to increasing doses of light because we couldn’t have handled the brightness here otherwise.

Once my eyes had adjusted I was overwhelmed with the green-ness. The wild places back home had been gone for a long time and almost all the remaining fertile land was for food production, and that was usually under heavy guard. To see big, open, and empty spaces of green was strange.

Then I caught sight of the waiting crowd. Throngs of aliens stood watching quietly as we filed out. They were male and female, with skin of different tones, hair of intense colors, and dressed in garments whose hues seemed as bright as the sun. And they radiated a hatred that made me more afraid than any street gang at home ever did.

We were herded towards a cart pulled by large four-legged animals that snorted and stomped. As we arrived each woman was lifted into the bed of the wagon. There was a horizontal bar at waist height running the length of it and our cuffs were hooked behind our back to the bar so that we faced out towards the crowds, one line of us facing one way and another facing the other.

I was in the center of five on one side. When we were all loaded, four males jumped on. One of them sat down in front of me with his back to the side of the cart, which meant he was facing me. He had very dark hair and he leered up at me with a smile that I needed no help to translate. I hadn’t seen him very often on the ship, though I think his name was Joran. I looked away, suddenly uncomfortable, and focused on the aliens lining the road as we started forward with a jerk.

They began to boo and hiss and use words we hadn’t learned, but the hatred in their faces made the meanings clear. For several miles people lined the streets, the anger getting more and more frenzied as we lurched down the road. By now I was so badly scared I almost peed on myself. I hear quiet crying from behind me and I wanted to give in as well. The realization grew that we were facing the hatred of an entire planet. How could we survive?

We’d be in danger for the rest of our lives no matter what the law said. I knew I was going to die on this beautiful green planet full of hate and suddenly wished I’d never come.

Like all journeys this one came to a stop eventually. We crossed a river and pulled to a

stop in front of a lovely park with tall strange trees. The crowd that had already gathered seemed immense. In the center of a cleared area were ten poles in a circle with ropes hanging down. I realized with horror that we were at our first punishment stop and that this would be no mere ‘spakking’.

I was glad I hadn’t had anything to eat because I was about to throw up. I’d never been as afraid or as panicked as I was now.

The males were silent as they began unloading us. Some of the women fought, which was ridiculous with their diminutive size. When I was finally lowered to the ground I found my legs wouldn’t hold me up. Suddenly Samial was at my side.

“You can do this,” he said softly.

“No, I can’t. Please!” I had no problem begging. He and Joran half carried and half dragged me over to a pole where my hands were bound in front of me to the hanging rope.

Immediately the slack went out, my arms went above my head, and I was on my toes with my face against the pole.

As soon as we were all in place I heard the hush of the crowd as someone began to speak. I struggled to understand the words, missing many, but understanding the general meaning.

“… you have committed … acts upon our people. And yet, we cannot … as a race without your help, so we must find a way to move past the hatred and the … that we hold for you. This … of punishments allows our people to show their rage … you, to be able to act in a

… satisfying … to release our hatred. By the end of your Tour we hope that you will feel no small … for your part in the … of our civilization, and we will feel some … of forgiveness towards all of you that will allow both our races to move towards a future neither can have without the other.”

At that moment the males from the ship moved into place behind us, each carrying what looked like whips in their hand. I began to cry with fear.

The first lash wasn’t too bad. I found out later that the males had spent the last year practicing while we were sleeping, and were quite competent. The first lash was just to test the feel of the whip and the distance to the target.

The second one was not a test. I screamed. I’d never had anything hurt as much as this in my life and I was sure he had drawn blood. A moment later a third one landed and it hurt more than the last one, if that was possible. I joined the women around me in their begging and pleading and struggling to escape. It was for naught. A fourth one landed and I thought I’d gone to hell. I was only dimly aware of anything else as the pain came again and again, each slash more agonizing than the last one, until there was nothing but one continuous pain. By this time,

I hung from my arms, unable to support myself on my toes.

At some point I became aware that new lines of fire had ceased; there was only the feeling of hot coals down my back to my legs. The ropes let go and someone carried me to someplace shaded and laid me down on my side on the grass. The other nine of the women lay around me, many crying softly now. Through my haze I looked at their backs and saw red and purple lines crossing over each other like an angry child’s drawing. But nowhere did I see blood. I couldn’t believe it; I was sure my back had been shred to ribbons. I lay there in an agony of pain while time crept by. Eventually I noticed a figure leaning over me.

“Leina,” his voice was soft. “Drink some water.” Samial held a cup out to me.

I looked up at him. Where I had once felt a friendship towards him, all I felt now was a

hatred.

“Go away, you bastard,” I said in my own language. “I’d rather die than take anything from you.” He stared at me for a moment, then shook his head and moved on to the next woman.

Eventually I began to notice the world again. The crowd had mostly dispersed; a few curious onlookers lingered but it was pretty obvious they were being kept away by our males.

I looked around the park. There used to be one park in the city I grew up in, but it had fallen victim to the lack of water that we all suffered from. I’d seen pictures and videos of course, but they couldn’t convey the sense of life that this park did. A gentle breeze floated over us and cooled us from the midday heat. An insect – something we’d done our best to get rid of until we realized too late what role they played in our environment – buzzed over a bright flower. I suddenly teared up at realizing that there were flowers everywhere. The trees were healthy and lush, though tall and spindly. And everything looked big. Oversized. Like the aliens themselves. Even the sun looked giant. The very air seemed to glow with light and the sky was a brilliant blue. Was that the right color for a sky? I couldn’t remember.

We lay there for a while, comforting each other and groaning as we shifted. The males stood outside, also talking quietly. Eventually Kinin gave a signal and the males converged on the shelter.

“Time to get up. We’re going to the place where you’ll be staying tonight.”

Chapter 9

The building was only across the street, but none of the women would have made it without the help of a male. One by one we were escorted into the large open room filled with cots and a couple of tables. Each cot had a pillow and blanket. An alien whose name I didn’t know eased me down onto the edge of a bed. Sitting hurt, though, so I stood back up on wobbly legs.

I was still speaking in my own language, not able to convey my hatred adequately in theirs. “I’m glad to see they don’t intend to make us sleep on the ground as part of the punishment,” I said with sarcasm to no one in particular, “because that would be barbaric.”

“And millions of women to lose babies is more good?” Samial walked past, carrying a box, replying in my tongue. Damn him. I wish he didn’t understand it so well.

“Go to hell.” I hurting too much to care if I was being disrespectful, but he ignored me. I saw Oriana trying to sit down and crying at the pain, so I walked stiffly over to her.

“Let me help you.” I eased her down onto one hip and lifted her feet from the floor, and then without a second thought I eased myself down next to her. The cots, like everything else, were extra big, and we both fit nicely. I pulled her head into my arm and we fell asleep, escaping the pain for a while.

When I woke it was evening. Some of the women were awake and talking, some lying on their sides or stomachs looking miserable, and a few still asleep. I needed to use the bathroom so I eased myself off the cot, biting my lip at the pain as I moved. I walked slowly over to the nearest male.

“Bathroom?” I said. He looked at me blankly. I was still speaking my language. A bit of rebellion, if you will. “Bathroom!” I repeated loudly, as though he was hard of hearing.

A voice near me said a word I didn’t understand and I turned to see Samial approaching. I ignored him and turned back to the other male. Now that he understood my need, he pointed to a door, and I went through it as fast as I could, slamming the door behind me.

Once safe inside I looked down in astonishment at the toilet. At home, and on board the ship, the toilets were dry, with the contents being sucked away when a button was pushed. Here, I was staring at a bowl full of water, something so precious on my planet that I would rather cut off my arm than foul it with my waste. I looked around desperately for something else. There was the sink, which usually had a forceful cool steam that cleaned hands, but when I turned the lever, more water came out at a gush and I jumped back with a squeal of surprise. I watched in horror as water poured down the drain before I pounced on it to hit the lever and turn it off.

I had no idea what to do except open the door and look out. Samial was standing there with his arms crossed, grinning at me.

“Something wrong in there?” he asked.

“Water in the, uh, what do I – I cannot –? ” I stuttered over the foreign words in my confusion.

“Would you believe me if I told you that we have enough water that you can use it for that and still have plenty more?”

My eyes widened. That was a luxury I’d never thought about before.

“Besides,” he continued, “we clean and recycle every drop. That water has been peed in before.”

“Oh.” Though I didn’t understand every word he said, I got the general idea. I ducked back in and closed the door. I eased myself down onto the toilet, a terribly painful movement, and thought about anything other than the waste of water, and eventually I was able to finish. When I flushed, more water swirled around and then came to rest in the bowl. Shaking my head in wonder, I avoided the sink and squirted something that I thought was hand cleaner onto my hands. I rubbed it around, only to find that it wasn’t going away and was really sticky. I had no idea what to do, but then thought of the water in the sink and turned the tap on very slowly, just a trickle. Sure enough, the precious water removed the sticky stuff from my hands and when I was done they felt strangely clean.

I poked my head out of the bathroom door and with relief saw that Samial was talking with someone else. I made my way back over to an empty cot and lay down, hurting, exhausted, and wondering what would be next.

The sounds around me during the night suggested that everyone slept as restlessly as I did. There were whimpers as sleepers turned onto their backs out of habit and pain forced itself into their dreams. As the light grew brighter in the morning, we woke to find a new torment: the struggling we’d done during the whipping had now left us incredibly stiff and sore in our backs and arms. We groaned as we sat up and tried to stand. We talked quietly to each other, took turns rubbing shoulders and arms as much as possible without touching the frightening stripes on our backs. We were tired and discouraged. Sounds of soft weeping floated over the quiet hall intermittently as the absence of comfort from family and friends was keenly felt.

The males kept themselves apart, sensing no doubt the hostility of the women this morning. Samial had admitted to me that none of the males with us had done the Tour before. I wondered what they thought of their part in it.

The smell of something warm and fragrant drifted through the air and I struggled off my cot to follow it. As I entered another room I saw tables full of food. Lots of food. Some of it I recognized, much I didn’t, but it all smelled amazing. There was enough to feed an army here. Surely this couldn’t all be for us? Besides – who would have cooked all this? I had expected some kind of boxed or canned rations.

I wandered further down the line to the end where a large pitcher of water stood. It was clear and cool. I was suddenly terribly thirsty.

“Now may I give you a glass of water?” Samial’s voice startled me. After a moment, I nodded. He filled a cup and gave it to me and I downed it without stopping to breathe. He refilled it and this time I drank more slowly.

“The food – where did it come from??” I finally asked, reluctantly deciding to try the alien words again.

“The people from town.”

I turned to gape at him. “Seriously?” I asked in my language. He frowned at me. “Are you once again doubting my honesty?”

I wasn’t as scared of him as before. “It is a word! It means I am having, um, trouble, understanding what you tell me. It is not disrespect and I, um, wish for you to stop bother me!” I finished, proud that I had remembered the word “bother.”

“If your bottom weren’t covered with painful red stripes I would put you over my knee,” he growled.

The stripes twinged. “It is, and you put them there, so I do not like you much now.” I hated trying to argue in another language.

He said nothing for a moment. I tried to read his expression but I couldn’t. I shook my head. “So, why do the people from town feed us after they call us names and be happy while we cry?”

“Because you are now forgiven and it’s their job to care for you and feed you for the next few days.”

I was so stunned I couldn’t speak.

He continued. “We used to be a warring race, much like yours is. We held grudges for generations. We would visit vengeance upon our enemies and then spend the rest of our lives hating them. And when the world collapsed a few centuries ago, we found that we couldn’t afford to hate each other indefinitely. We needed each other. So over the centuries we’ve

developed a way of dispensing justice. It’s harsh, immediate, and then it’s over and everyone moves on. It isn’t perfect — it can be difficult to let go of hatred when something really bad has happened to you –” He paused for a moment, as if reflecting, and I sensed there was more to his story. Whatever it was, he shook it off. “But it’s served us well. In this region, you females have paid the price for your race’s actions, and it’s now their job to care for you until you move on. Since you are all undernourished, they will feed you their best food so that you may have healthy babies.”

I peered at him, about ten seconds behind in understanding what he was saying while I translated in my head. I think he was implying that we hadn’t had enough food to eat throughout our lives. I had to agree with him.

He moved to the end of the table and pulled something from a box. “This is for you to wear until we leave for the next town.”

I unfolded a clean, soft, sleeveless shift, long enough to go down to my knees, and not see- through. I donned it in the space of a heartbeat. Then I ate. And ate. And ate.

Chapter 10

I was a weird mixed-up bag of emotions after breakfast, not sure how to handle cruelty and kindness so close together, so I wandered outside. The sun was warm and I turned my face to it, tears spilling out of my tightly clenched eyes.

I’d been sitting there for a long time, carefully tilted to one side and off the welts, when I felt a movement next to me. I rubbed my eyes to erase any evidence of tears and turned. To my surprise Joran sat down next to me. He kept a reasonable amount of space between us, which I was grateful for, because his presence unnerved me. He was even bigger and broader than most of the other males, with black hair that curled tightly around itself. That same hair traveled down his arms, giving him the look of an animal wearing a pelt.

“The whipping yesterday was very painful, wasn’t it?”

I looked at him. “You know it was. You enjoy it, I think.” “I practiced for a year. I’m good at it.” He smiled proudly. I rolled my eyes.

“You know there’s a way to escape any more of these.” “Yes. Why?” I asked suspiciously.

“I’d like to try to help you.”

“You want to lie with me to get me pregnant?” I regretted not knowing any crude words in his language.

“If you’re willing.”

I stared at him. The concept of having sex to get pregnant wasn’t unpleasant, at all, but he was not the vision I had of the alien I hoped would be my first. “Um, I will think about it.”

His eyes widened as though he’d never considered that I might not fall all over myself to “lie” with him.

Suddenly I needed space. “Joran, I want to be alone.” I got up and moved away from the steps, crossing my fingers that he wouldn’t come after me. He didn’t.

I wandered over to flowers in a raised bed in front of a low wall. They were bright, like everything else here, as though the sun shone out from every object. Small insects buzzed

around.

There was a noise behind the wall. I swear it sounded like a giggle. And then another one – and this was definitely a soft moan. I froze and listened to the conversation.

It was Aliya. And Linal if I guessed correctly, since they had seemed to find each other irresistible before we went into space sleep. And they were definitely not having a private language practice. Her soft moans were replaced by grunts and groans, and I heard him reassure her that he was almost all the way in, that she was doing fine. And then I heard a noise that could only be him pulling out and pushing back in as she let out a quiet screech…

I should have been embarrassed to overhear this. I should have left immediately to give them privacy. But I was fascinated by the sounds, and so turned on that I realized I was wet between my legs. Looking around furtively and seeing no one turned my way, I sat down on the edge of the low stones in front of the flowers, plunged my hand between my legs, and started furiously rubbing my clit. The stones ground painfully into my welts and somehow that pain only increased my pleasure. I heard her come, the sound muffled as though he had his hand over her mouth and that was all the vision I needed to rocket over the edge in record time, stifling my own yell between my gritted teeth. As I came back down, I checked to see if anyone had observed my frantic self-pleasuring, and to my relief, saw no one.

As Linal reached his own peak and let out a cry, I used the cover of the noise to stand up and walk away quickly.

That evening the males told us to put away the books we were trying to read and come with them. We followed, curious at what was in store, and stopped in shock when he led us back to the park where we had been whipped. The poles were gone. Instead, there was a large group of aliens – males, females, and children – all male, of course – spread out over the grass. Some were talking, and some were eating, and food was spread over several large tables to one side.

We stood in an uncertain group until a female with a smile walked over to us. “This is your first stop on the Tour, right?”

We nodded.

“I know this is a shock. You’ve gone through the punishment. You’re forgiven here in this area, and now you’re safe and welcomed.”

We stayed silent, not comfortable with our hostess. She may have been acting nice, but the pain of our first punishment echoed in every movement we made and we weren’t feeling a lot like talking.

“Go, help yourself to the food, and then sit. We want to tell you our story.”

A short while later, we were seated on the grass with our plates full of more strange food.

The female stood up once again to speak. She spoke slowly and clearly and I think we understood most of it this time.

“I know you know the facts of the story, but there’s more that you need to know. We didn’t stop having girls right away. It was gradual, as the infection spread over the planet. It took about a year before anyone here realized what was going on. All we knew was that there were an awful lot of boys being born, but because there was still the occasional girl, we didn’t think much about it. Until the day we realized there had been twenty boys and no girls born over the last year in our town, and we demanded to know what was going on. The government was reluctant to admit it at first, but the facts were plain. No girls had been born for almost a year anywhere, and they had no idea why. Then they realized why, but couldn’t do anything about it. We’ve spent twenty years trying to figure it out. We still can’t, and even though your scientists are now helping us, no one knows how to reverse it. Almost every resource we have has been thrown at the problem. Those broken up roads? They haven’t been paved for eighteen years.

Municipal buildings haven’t been repaired. Taxes are incredibly high, but most people would give everything they owned if it would help. About five years ago the government stepped in to declare that at least ten percent of revenue collected had to be spent on things not related to finding a cure, because we would descend into chaos as a society unless we took care of the people that were still alive.

“And then we found out that you – females from the planet that tried to wipe us out – were the answers to our survival. The bitterness and anger were incredible, especially from the women. Many people declared they would rather die as a species than invite you to come to our home and lay with our men. In spite of that, the re-population program was announced five years ago, and three years ago the first ship arrived with a large group.”

She paused and took a deep breath and I sensed something ominous.

“This is the part that no one – not even your government – knows. Those first females were being led off the ship when they were attacked by people who lived nearby. Almost all of the group of one hundred were killed.”

We stared at her in shocked silence. No wonder the aliens prohibited communication back to our planet. We would have stopped coming if we’d heard of this massacre.

“The few that survived were traumatized, understandably. Most of us were so appalled at what had happened that despite our anger, we took them in and cared for them, and grew to have a better understanding of them. It’s hard to hate people that you know. But the anger lingered across the planet, and after months and months of debates, with the next ship on the verge of arriving, we came up with the arrangement we have now. And to our great surprise, it’s worked. The anger has bled out of the areas that have hosted the Tour, and the females from your planet

live in those areas in safety. So we now welcome you to our town, and when you’re done if you choose to come back you’ll find many friends.” She stopped there and sat down.

We shifted uncomfortably on the soft grass, not sure what to say or do. We were saved from figuring it out when a group of gaudily-dressed males and females rose and assembled in the center of the park. Without warning music erupted from somewhere unseen, and a voice yelled out words, and the dancers began to weave back and forth in a complicated and sinuous pattern. The females spun and swirled, and when one of them made a mistake and ran into another they all laughed as they helped the females off the ground.

They looked happy despite their tragedy and I longed to be a part of it.

As we walked back to the building for the night, I fell into step next to Samial. I searched my memory for the right words to use to ask him and it must have been obvious because he stopped and turned to me with a smile.

“Out with it, Leina. I can tell there is something you want to say.”

I colored bright red and looked at the ground. “Is it possible – um, would you like to – um, can we lie together?” I dared to look up at him with hope.

“You want to try to have a baby with me?” His words had a tone of disbelief I didn’t understand.

“Um, yes. Is it strange?” I asked with confusion.

He looked back at me, his features hardening. “No, Leina, I will not lie with you. I’m sorry.” He turned and walked away abruptly, leaving me staring at his retreating back and wondering what I’d done wrong.