Orion's Belt - A Dark Sci-Fi Western Romance

His threat makes me blush violently, and his slaps make me squeal and wriggle. I curse at the top of my lungs as, down below, half the saloon starts cheering for Orion. They don’t know what’s going on, but they’re immediately on his side.

Nobody is on a woman’s side in this piece of shit town. Nobody has ever been on a woman’s side on this planet. I have to get off this world, and ironically, the man currently thrashing seven shades of hell off me is the best chance I have of achieving that.

“I’m sorry! You win! I’ll do what you want!” I cry out, giving him the submission he wants.

“YES!” The cheer comes up from below.

Orion lets me go and I turn on him instantly.

“I hate you,” I seethe. “If you ever try to touch me like you threatened, I will cut your fucking cock off and…”

“Easy girl,” he growls. “I know how that might have sounded, but I meant you’d want it. You get damn wet when you’re being punished.”

“I don’t give a fuck if I flood like a river,” I growl back. “You threaten me like that again, and you’ll wake up with your balls in your mouth.”

“Easy, girl.”

He doesn’t keep lecturing though. He knows what he said was messed up. I guess it’s the outlaw in him, thinks he can say what he wants, do what he wants, and get away with it. Problem is, that’s what the sheriff thinks too, and he’s right.

We’re interrupted by the arrival of what I can only describe as an interested party. A woman comes gliding up the stairs toward us, her lips curled in a painted smile. She’s wearing a purple silk dress and she has the most stunning violet eyes which are highlighted by raven black hair. She’s beautiful, and she makes for Orion, speaking to him as if I’m not even there.

“Hi handsome,” she smiles broadly, teeth flashing like a pretty shark. “You want a free ride?”

“No thank you, ma’am.”

“You sure? This saddle is guaranteed clean,” she says, arching her hip out toward him with a wry smile. I can’t help but roll my eyes at her referring to her rear as a ‘saddle’.

“Ugh, gross,” I mutter, earning myself another hard slap to my rear. Apparently Orion doesn’t like me giving attitude to the women trying to sleep with him.

The woman gives me a vicious look. I feel her hatred spearing through me, and realize that she wants him badly enough to hurt me. I also realize something else. She’s jealous of me, just because Orion is touching me, and he took me into the room where other men lay her down on her back and have their way with her.

“Thank you kindly, but I’m afraid we’ve got to be going.”

“No accountin’ for taste,” she mutters to herself. “Let me know if you ever want a real woman, not a half-boy.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask the question aggressively, but I don’t have time to get an answer. Orion tightens his grip on the back of my neck and marches me out of the saloon double time. We’re in the cool dark of the late night air, but my cheeks are still flaming at both ends of my body.

“Is that what you like? Women with their nipples peeking out?”

“You don’t need to worry what I like,” he drawls.

I feel embarrassed all over again. That’s a straight up declaration that I am not part of his sex life and never will be. I shouldn’t be bothered about that, I did just get done threatening to unman him if he ever touched me.

“I’m not worried,” I lie. “I don’t care. I don’t give a damn what you do with your… uh… privates.”

I realized partway through the sentence I didn’t know how to finish it, and in the end I trail off to a vague reference to his genitals. Fortunately, or maybe, unfortunately, Orion doesn’t seem to care about the awkwardness, if he even notices it.

Orion

She’s adorable. I can barely see her at all in the dim light, but she’s fidgeting and looking at me sideways and blushing furiously. I have no intention of telling her about my sexual preferences, or the fact that I’m rock hard right now thanks to the inviting sight she presented to me over that bed. Wouldn’t make sense to, given she just panicked at the mention of ravishment.

I’d love to strip her down, find out what’s under the rest of those rough clothes, but I’d lose her trust immediately, and I’d complicate this situation even more than it already is.

“Come on,” I say, taking pity on her. “Let’s get out of here.”

“We’re not staying in town?”

“We’re camping on the ridge up above it. Easier to leave if we need to, more defensible, and, hell, come on.” Don’t know why I’m explaining myself to her. I’m not in the habit of explaining myself to anyone.