It was hard to run with her legs still weak from the sex and her bottom tingling and her whole groin area aching and swollen, but she managed to gain some ground, taking advantage of the obfuscatory foliage to foil Paul’s attempts at second-guessing her route. Through the brown-greenery, she began to make out the wall of a building, looming ever closer, built of a dark, glittering brick, windowless and sinister in its appearance. Suka tried to find a door, but between running full-pelt and trying to place Paul’s location by the sound of his irate yelling, her senses were busy enough, and it wasn’t until she was almost smack-bang into the wall that she worked out how to get into the building.
She vaulted over an iron balustrade and scampered down some steps to a basement door. Hoping against hope it would not be locked, she yanked at the handle. The door creaked aside and Suka found herself in pitch darkness. Good, she thought. He won’t be able to find me just by looking.
She reached out, feeling for walls, and tiptoed rapidly along the side of the building, listening out for sounds of her master’s voice.
Crackling of undergrowth from above, heavy footsteps on the stairs, then his voice.
“Suka? Stop this now. You’re in more trouble than you can ever imagine, girl. When I get my hands on you…”
Suka had to suppress a gasp, sure already he would be able to locate her by the deafening beating of her heart.
A narrow beam of light bisected the darkness. He was using his communicator torch. Luckily, the chamber was vast and full of strange corners and cubbyholes. If she used her sense of touch wisely, she could find a way out of here before he lit on her.
Huge shapes, malevolent and fantastical, loomed in the greyness. Had Suka not been so focused on the chase, she might have wondered about their purpose, but only one imperative drove her. The beam of light swished around, sometimes coming close, but she was light-footed enough to keep her footsteps near-silent.
She heard Commander Paul curse.
“Suka! This isn’t going to help you. Come here now.”
Her fingers closed around a metal ring in the wall. It might be the latch of some kind of portal. Feverishly she tried to turn it without making a noise. The light gained on her, advancing with Paul’s footsteps, closer and closer.
Damn, she thought. I don’t have time to be subtle. She gave the ring a wrench and a door began to slide open. Now Paul would know where she was—as evidenced by his quickening pace and sudden, nearby roar of, “Suka!”
Come on, door, open, open, quickly. But the grinding of the gears was infernally slow, and Suka was halfway through trying to insert her slim figure into the narrow opening when Paul’s hand landed on her elbow, closing around it like an iron band. Fuck. So much for that plan.
Not that it had been much of a plan. More an anti-plan, a reaction against Paul’s unacceptable plan for her.
“You’ve broken one rule too many, Ensign—” Paul was barking, when suddenly his torch caught the edge of something and he was silenced, flashing the beam slowly around the new chamber.
“The punishment suite,” quavered Suka. “It must be.”
“Yes.” Paul, forgetful of his wrath, used the communicator to light the room more fully, zapping the wall-mounted brackets until a flickering glow illuminated the scene.
Suka’s legs buckled and she was momentarily grateful for Paul’s firm, if uncomfortable, hold on her elbow. This was incredible. She was reminded of an illustration in one of the anthropological texts she had studied for her dissertation. ‘Figure Two: Typical BDSM “Dungeon Club”.’ She had looked at that picture over and over, imagining herself restrained in some of the equipment, at the mercy of a heartless man or men, or maybe even a woman like the one in ‘Figure Three: A Professional Dominatrix.’
“It’s like a dream,” she said softly, “all of this.”
Paul jerked to attention, reminded of her company. He narrowed his eyes, frowning down at her.
“Your worst nightmare?”
“No. Leaving here. Leaving here without you is my worst nightmare.”
“One you don’t have much choice about,” said Paul robustly, but Suka could see he was struggling to maintain his resolve.
“We always have a choice,” she said. “Commander. Please don’t send me back.”
“I have to.” There it was, palpable regret, almost anguish.
Suka knew she had to build on this, drive home her advantage. She bumped her hip against his and raised entreating eyes.
“Another punishment? Please? I know I deserve one. Anything you want. Just don’t send me away.”
“Suka—”
“Give me what I deserve, Commander. Make me take my punishment. Please discipline me as you see fit.”
He groaned, trying to push her away, but the bulge of his crotch signalled her imminent victory and she pursued it relentlessly.