Space Prisoner

Before the Return

     The bright light of the cargo bay blinded me for a moment. As soon as my eyes adjusted, I turned around and found myself looking up into the face of the man that had dragged me out of the cupboard. I backed away quickly. At any other time I would be admiring his stunning features, yet now, all I could see was the look of outrage on his face and the whip that he held in his hand.

     "Hmm. A runaway." He said. "I'm sure the proper authorities will be showing up soon to get you, but in the meantime, seeing as its MY ship, I can do as I please!"

     I lowered my eyes to the floor. "It... it was an accident, Sir. I was just trying to find a place to hide and the cupboard locked me in. I fell asleep until the security system on the belt started working. I swear, I wasn't trying to escape! Please, help me!"

     He raised the hand holding the whip, and the next thing I knew, I was stumbling back against the wall with a line of fire burning across my stomach. I yelped and winced, but I didn't dare look up.

     "Shut the fuck up, slut! The guards will deal with your escape when they get you back to the prison. Until then, I'll punish you for the delay you've caused me! And the extra fuel it will take to restart the engines and remain here longer!" His voice lowered to nearly a growl as he stated flatly, "I have no sympathy for criminals."

     He grabbed my hair, and dragged me out of the cargo bay; down the hall to another room.  There, he tied me so my wrists were above my head. I felt exposed and helpless. For just a moment, I was grateful for the irremovable belt.

     The Captain walked over to a wall, put down the whip and picked up a cane. I whimpered. He walked back over to me. "You  will count every strike, slut. If you stop counting, we start over. If you make it to a hundred, I may give you a chance to switch to another slightly gentler implement. Do you understand?"

     I had barely nodded when the first stroke landed. I counted aloud as each stroke landed.

CRACK, "One!"
CRACK, "Two!" and my breath caught.
CRACK, "Three!" I managed through clenched teeth.
CRACK, "Four!" the hot tears welled up and started rolling down my cheeks.
CRACK, "Five!" I was sobbing.
CRACK, "Six!" my eyes closed, I was able to focus on the counting, but every blow bloomed from a sharp stinging line of fire spreading to wet heat. 

     Sobbing breathlessly, I  lost count at thirty. He started over at one. I stopped even trying to count. My stomach, legs and ass were a bloody mess. The last thing I heard before I blacked out was sirens and the police yelling at him to put the weapon down.