Final Surrender

I never understood why he fought so hard. He really had nothing to fight for. He knew his mission was hopeless and his leaders detested him. But he has always been the rebel, something I've experienced first hand over the last few weeks. But I have to admit, I like it when he resists me. It wouldn't be any fun if he was completely submissive. But a good beating never did his attitude much harm either.

Do not get the wrong idea. I am in no way abusive towards him. But that doesn't mean I don't have to rough him up once in a while to get my point across. But he enjoys the aggression. It makes him feel like he accomplishes something each time he withstands a slap or a kick. And I'm sure it is considered some form of foreplay to his kind. So the only person he is really fighting is himself. It would be more beneficial for the both of us if he just decided to go with the flow.

But once again, his disobedient nature always keeps me on my toes. But last night, I just might have finally gotten him.

I adorned something comfortable as I made my way towards the lab, something that could be easily removed if need be. The walls were lined with a special padding which was ideal for blocking out the sound of screams. I never liked being interrupted during anything, especially when I was with my slave, for lack of a more poetic word. And tonight would be no exception; for tonight was a special night.

The door recognized my genetic signature and opened without hesitation. As I stepped into the room, I let my eyes adjust to the dim lighting. Normally I was satisfied with the semi-darkness, but I was feeling exceptionally attractive tonight and decided to treat my captive to my splendor. So a quick clap brightened the lights a bit.

I heard a faint groan of disappointment come from the other side of the room. It was clear he did not like my presence, but he really did not have a say in the matter anyway. So he would pay for his resistance, whether he knew it or not.

The newly brightened light fell over my captive, giving him the illusion of a healthy glow. His head was bowed down with eyes glued to the ground in front of him. I always loved the position I had tied him in, kneeling before me with his wrists chained together above his head. It left him vulnerable to my wandering eyes as well as my wandering hands.

I walked closer and stood before him. He remained motionless, refusing to look at me. I did not mind, for he would have good reason to look at me soon enough.

I reached over and grabbed my usual chair. I sat down in front of my captive and crossed my legs casually. A little too feminine, I'll admit. But when have I ever cared about what people thought of me anyway?

He sighed loudly. "Don't you ever get tired," he asked, exasperated by the fact I was even there.

I kicked the side of his head with my crossed leg. "Come again," I said as if I didn't hear him.

He sighed again. "Don't you ever get tired, strattler?"

From previous experience with him, I learned that that particular word was the equivalent of "slut" in his language. So of course, the insult did not sit well with me.

I kicked him even harder. And I knew it impaired him, for he made his familiar grunt of displeasure. "I really hate hurting you," I told him, "But what kind of master would I be if I didn't punish you for being bad?"

He didn't answer. But I could see him squint his eyes.

"I think an apology is necessary," I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

He paused and looked up very slightly. I could see the pinkish shines of his eyes glaring at me. "I'm sorry… Supreme One," he reluctantly added at the end.

"There, that wasn't so hard," I said, hiding a satisfied smile. "You know, tonight is a special night."

"How so," he asked, humoring me when he was clearly uninterested.

"Tonight makes our second month together."

His head tilted up a little in reaction, as if to ask, Really? Good Lord…

I smiled. Now he was interested. "Seems like it has been longer, hasn't it," I asked.

He remained silent, upset that I knew how he was feeling. "Answer me," I demanded, preparing my foot for another kick.

It was almost like he sensed it because he answered immediately. "Yes," he stated.

I took a moment to look him over and take in all he had become while in my possession. His pak was gone, as usual, replaced by a long metal cord attached to his back. It served the same purpose of life support as his pak, but removed his weaponry for obvious reasons. The scar on his head paraded itself like an honorable battle wound. But in reality, it was merely a mark of his ultimate defeat. His surgery scars were also evident, especially the one going right down his chest in the shape of an I, as if he were a frog being dissected in some middle school science class.

But despite these disfigurements, he was still incredibly attractive to me. If possible, the scars made him even more desirable, for they were representations of my ownership. But I digress.

"So tell me," I said, breaking the silence, "What has been the most pleasurable part of being with me?"

He moved around and rattled his chains a little in response, but that was the only answer I received. I grew impatient.

"I would think it would be a great honor to live with me and be my pet," I said, raising my voice and pretending to be insulted by his silence.

"Forgive me, Supreme One," he said, staring down, "But my experiences haven't exactly been enjoyable."

I scoffed at his answer with a smug smile. "You little liar…"

He glanced up at me as if to challenge my judgment.

"You may have fought me every step of the way, but deep down, you can't get enough pain and objectification," I stated in an intense whisper.

I stood up and kicked the chair aside. He winced at the sudden scratching sound of it sliding across the floor.

"The masochist side of you begs for it, every hour of everyday," I stated, stepping closer to him. "When you hear my footsteps coming down the hall getting closer and closer, your heart races. Sure, you may think it is from fear, but you really know it's because you can't wait till I put my hands on you."

He fixed his gaze on the ground firmly, trying his hardest not to listen to the penetrating words.

I knelt down in front of him but kept my posture straight so I remained taller. I put my hand under his chin to tilt his face up, but he jerked it away. I could not help but laugh lightly at his tenacity. And in response, I swiftly snatched his lower jaw in my vice-like hand. His head was yanked up so quickly, he barely had time to make a noise of objection.

He glared at me, his lower lip quiver in hurt. The sight was so pathetic it almost made me spit.

"Any day now, you will come to realize that you relish being my captive. And then… you will be happy," I whispered, letting my lips get closer to his, "Imagine what it would be like. You'd have a peaceful sanctuary where you would never feel lonely or unwanted. You'd finally have a real home and someone you could really look up to, someone who only has your best interests in mind," I said, releasing my hold on his lower jaw.

Apparently he was listening and was quite enthralled in the fantasy, for he did not shy away from me once I relinquished my grip. His stare was one of slender hope rather than fear or detest. I could see I was starting to appeal to him.

"And every night, you and I could make beautiful love together, exploring each other's bodies without hesitation or fear," I said, pressing my body against his. I touched his face lightly, making sure to be gentle.

He sighed loudly and closed his eyes. I could feel his whole body shiver against mine. I knew I had him. "Wouldn't you like that," I asked softly, lightly touching his lips with my own.

He opened his eyes a little as his chest heaved up and down in passion. "Yes Miss Gaz, I would like that very much…"