Shalia's Diary Book 10 Read online

  SHALIA’S DIARY

  Book 10

  A Clans of Kalquor Story

  By

  Tracy St. John

  © copyright February 2017, Tracy St. John

  Cover art by Erin Dameron-Hill, © copyright February 2017

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s

  imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or

  events is merely coincidence.

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  PLEASE NOTE:

  Shalia’s Diary is an ongoing serial story. This is Book 10 of that tale, picking up where Book 9 left off. It is highly advised that you read Books 1 - 9 in their entirety before reading this part.

  December 4

  Okay, I am officially bored. I have spent the last couple of days doing my best to not whine when I have no real cause to, yet here I am complaining. It’s no one’s fault but my own, but there it is. I am bored.

  Mom’s gone, and all the drama that came with her is gone too. Our conversations over coms, both live and recorded, are rosy as hell. She doesn’t call me names. She expresses motherly concern for my welfare. She misses Anrel like crazy. She’s making great improvements away from me and Kalquor. The old saying ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ is definitely being proven out these days. I’m happy for her. I really am. The kind of boredom that comes with not being on her shit list and worrying myself sick over her should be a good thing.

  Maybe it would be if I was spending more time with Clan Aslada. They have all returned to work. Because they are important people and some things cropped up during the leave they took to be with me, they are playing catch-up. That means long hours and little time for us to get to know each other and have fun together. Hell, all three of them were gone before I woke up yesterday morning. They only came home after I’d fallen asleep in the common room last night, trying to wait up for at least one of them. I have a very bleary memory of Aslada carrying me to bed.

  We knew our time would be limited when they went back to their jobs. That’s why they are taking leave again in about four weeks, this time to be with me without the added angst of my mom. But for now, they’ve got their work to stay busy. Aslada can’t even find time to do those vid productions we’ve been talking about for weeks. He’s bogged down with legislation and fighting with other government officials.

  And what do I have? A baby who is hogged by her nanny, Imdiko Snoy. Physical, fighting, and weapons training by three Nobeks who are in and out of here as fast as their duties allow. Servants who have responsibilities that don’t include amusing me. I can com Katrina, Candy, Betra, and Oses only so many times in a day before I start looking completely pathetic.

  Aslada and Meyso have reached out to the six clans they know which have Mataras. However, half of the women are so old that we’re sure I’d have nothing in common with them. One is rumored to be adamantly anti-Earther. The younger women say they are eager to get to know me, but they have careers of their own keeping them busy.

  Still, I have no right to complain. I know that! Life has never been so easy or so good. But…boo hoo. I’m bored. And lonely. I don’t know what to do with myself here in this huge place.

  I have to wonder if I’ve been in too many scrapes to be a normal person who can pursue a drama-free life. Am I actually isolated here, or is it the sudden lack of adventure that’s bothering me? As if I’d want to be kidnapped or attacked ever again! Still, I’m not doing the whole lady of leisure thing very well. As wonderful as Clan Aslada is (when I see them), I need more than what I’m getting right now. I need my friends. I need something to fill the hours that stretch forever until a handsome face comes home and smiles at me.

  I think I should go back to the Matara Complex. At least until Aslada, Meyso, and Jaon’s schedules calm back down and we can get back to the business of reviewing our compatibility. Hanging around and waiting for that or for their next leave feels like I’m wasting valuable time. In the meantime, I can re-connect with Clan Seot. I can hang out with Candy and the other women of the complex. I can play with Anrel without Snoy hovering over us, looking at me as if I’m stealing his child.

  I hope Clan Aslada won’t take this wrong, but I’m going to go nuts if I don’t go back to my friends for a little while. The guys are doing their best to make me happy under the circumstances, but the lack of interaction…between equals rather than mistress-of-the-house and servants…is depressing. I feel like I’m in limbo, and it’s not a good feeling. Heaven help me if I get too morose and drive this clan away because I’m a miserable bitch. I’ll never forgive myself.

  Okay, so I’ve talked myself into going back to the Matara Complex. Now I just have to figure out how to break the news to Clan Aslada. Yeah, that’s going to be fun.

  December 5

  The discussion about me going back to the Matara Complex until Clan Aslada’s leave went quite well. It helped that I only had to face Aslada and Meyso with my decision. Jaon ran off on a sudden assignment, tracking down a man accused of trying to kidnap a couple of Earther women. There’s no telling how long he’ll be gone.

  The moment I brought the subject up last night, Aslada and Meyso were in complete agreement with me leaving. They even looked relieved, which I teased them about. “I see I’ve worn out my welcome,” I said.

  “Don’t you dare joke about that,” Aslada said with a severe look that warned I was in danger of a spanking. “You need much more attention than you’ve been getting. Don’t think I haven’t realized that. It’s been driving me crazy with frustration.”

  “By the time we get our next leave, the social season will be in full swing,” Meyso added. “We can introduce you to those Mataras we’ve wanted you to meet. Plus, a couple of clans we’re associated with have come up on the lottery recently. They may have fellow Earther women for you to socialize with.”

  “You do need a wider community to enjoy,” Aslada said. “Another excellent reason to have a Matara Complex in this region.”

  “I’ll add it to our list of motives for the vid,” I said. “I’m glad you understand why I need to take a brief break.”

  “I’m glad you plan for it to be brief.” Aslada gathered me in his arms, as if we weren’t sitting close enough on the common room’s lounger. He gave me a kiss that curled my toes. “I am going to miss coming home to you and Anrel, Shalia.”

  “Even if you’re already asleep when I come dragging in at night,” Meyso agreed with a sheepish grin. He sat on the other side of me, opposite to Aslada. He leaned against me, snuggling like the universe’s biggest, sweetest puppy. “It’s still good to have you here.”

  “Some people say I’m at my best when I’m unconscious,” I joked.

  “Some people need their butts worn out when they insist on putting themselves down,” Aslada said. His tone was clipped, but the warmth in his eyes told me he was only looking for an opportunity to do what he and I wanted him to do.

  “I’m a girl who needs many reminders,” I sighed as Meyso lifted my skirt and tugged my panties off.

  “I will repeat as often as you need me to,” Aslada chuckled, pulling me across his lap. He and Meyso rubbed my bare, vulnerable ass.

  The first few swats from his hand were lighter than the usual, the stings just
enough to put me at a slow simmer. At first I thought it was only going to be a playful, token spanking. However, it kept going, the heat and pain building until I squirmed over Aslada’s muscled thighs.

  “Naughty girl,” he sing-songed, the pattering blows raining down without pause. “Bad little girl, saying mean things about herself. Every time you sit down for the next few days, you’ll remember to do better.”

  The tiny, biting stings had become jolts of hurt, accompanied by throbbing heat. I gasped and whimpered with every stroke. I don’t think he was hitting any harder than at the beginning, for they weren’t any louder. I sure felt the punishment as if he did. It was building under his relentless attention, each slap more painful than the one before. Tears blurred my vision of the floor. Yet my pussy was wet, basking in the warmth of my ass’s penalty and the knowledge that Meyso was watching my bare ass redden.

  I couldn’t help but writhe as the chastisement continued without any sign of stopping. Glory, it hurt like hell. But strangely enough, I felt calm and secure lying across Aslada’s lap, taking his correction like the naughty girl he told me I was. Well, calm and secure if I didn’t count the rising excitement in my belly and the wetness oozing from between my thighs.

  I was a mess of warring emotions as the spanking went on and on. Crazy-aroused, yet serene. Safe, yet paying harsh penance. Wanting to escape, yet delighted to remain under Aslada’s hand forever. The idea that I would lie there and accept whatever the Dramok deemed I required, no matter how long or painful his correction turned out to be, only intensified all those feelings. I was his, a creature of utter surrender to his will. Nothing mattered but what he required of me.

  Only when my cries became a mixture of sobs and eager moans did he relent. He massaged my suffering ass, increasing the delicious pain and my excitement. I had fistfuls of his trouser leg, twisting the fabric as he tormented me.

  “There, little girl,” he said. “That’s going to ache for a good, long time. I like the idea of watching you flinch every time you sit down. And the instant you don’t cringe the moment your ass settles on a seat, the moment I realize your reminder has worn off, I’d remedy that situation with another long, hard spanking.”

  “Too bad she’s leaving us,” Meyso sighed. “I’d enjoy seeing that. But perhaps when she gets back?”

  “Count on it. On her first day, as soon as our sweet baby Anrel is in bed, we will make this gorgeous ass red and sore and keep it that way. What do you think of that, precious Shalia?”

  The idea made my pussy spasm. “Yes sir. Please, sir.”

  “Excellent. Now we will go to the playroom to continue enjoying you.”

  He slung me over his shoulder, a relief since I didn’t think my shaking legs would hold me up. The ache of the recent punishment and imagining a constant reminder of such made me weak with arousal. If Aslada had asked me that moment to clan, I might not have been able to say no.

  He carried me through the massive house with its endless halls and rooms to the clan’s wing, where the immense playroom waited. Aslada set me down on a thick seating cushion in one corner of the crowded room and ordered me to kneel at his feet. I did so, my skirt spread in a wide circle around me, hiding the fact that I held my throbbing ass off my calves.

  He knew what I was doing anyway. “Down, girl. All your weight on that delectable rear you’re trying so hard to protect.”

  I whimpered but did as I was told. A hiss escaped between my teeth as fiery pain blasted my nether regions. Sitting was going to be pure, wonderful torment for a while.

  As Meyso went to a set of drawers that held small tools and toys and searched through those items, Aslada stripped my blouse and bra away. I was allowed to rise off my poor butt long enough for him to take my skirt off too. Then I had to kneel once more, my ass resting painfully on my heels with my knees spread wide to display my pussy. I clasped my hands behind my back, putting my shoulders back to exhibit my breasts to my masters. I cast my gaze down to the floor, waiting to see what they would do to me next.

  Being fully on show while wondering what new torments and delights were to come made it hard to sit still. Just as hard as my spanked backside did. But sit still I did, because who knew what kind of punishment I would invite if I didn’t, punishment I wouldn’t enjoy as much? I knew the difference between being spanked for a trumped-up reason like jokingly putting myself down and actual discipline for real misbehavior. Aslada wouldn’t hesitate to make me regret disobedience to his wishes, even the ones he hadn’t specifically stated.

  He wanted me to sit on my throbbing ass. Therefore, I would sit uncomplaining and unmoving on my throbbing ass. That’s all there was to it.

  Meyso came over and knelt in front of me. He stroked my breasts with appreciation in turn with one hand. The other hand was cupped around something I couldn’t see. “These are beautiful as always, precious girl. I have something very special for them.”

  He leaned down and captured one mound in his warm, wet mouth. I groaned without embarrassment as pleasure slid from his mouth down to my clit, as if there was a direct line of communication to it from my breast. His roughened tongue slid against the already hard point of my nipple, increasing the thrill. He sucked, sending a cascade of shivers through me. Meyso’s mouth worked my flesh hard, making it swell.

  He leaned back and eyed the engorged nipple with appreciation. “Always so sensitive. It makes you all the more fun to play with.”

  He revealed what he held in his hand. Two identical items, which I had never seen before. They looked like tiny padlocks: each a rectangular metal block from which a silvery U-shaped wire connected on either side. In the middle of the upper curve of the wire, it looped into a circle. I guessed my nipple would fit within that loop. It was a kind of nipple clamp then.

  “Now hold absolutely still,” Meyso instructed me. He squeezed the wire, opening up the loop enough to slip it over my nipple, just as I’d figured. He released and it gripped my flesh, sending a silver of ardent torment into my breast. I gasped but didn’t move. I knew the pain would recede in a little while. For the moment, the weight of the small metal block made it more intense than the clips that had been used on me before.

  Meyso watched me carefully, a half-smile teasing his lips. “How is it?” he asked.

  “Hurts a bit,” I confessed, though the pain was already starting to ebb.

  He gave that breast an open-handed smack on one side, not hard at all. More a love tap than an actual slap. Yet as the flesh jiggled, a lance of anguish seared through it. I yelped. It took a moment for me to realize the clip had tightened for the time my boob had been in motion. I panted, staring at Meyso with wide eyes.

  He nodded confirmation. “Motion-sensitive. Any movement makes the clamp tighten, increasing the pressure. Now for the other one.”

  His mouth closed on the opposite breast, kissing, licking, and sucking to make the nipple engorge and jut. I whimpered as he placed a clamp on that one as well.

  “Let’s see if it works right,” he grinned. He gave that breast the same light tap he’d bestowed on the first. Hurt flashed through me, making me yell. “That would be a yes.”

  He wasn’t done with me though. He attached extra weights to each clip, metal teardrop-shaped objects hanging by short, silvery chains. The clamps tightened as he did so, making me groan between clenched teeth. I endured the torment as best I could as he played with the weights, making them sway. The clamps stayed tight until the heavy dangles finally went still.

  Heat pulsed through my tits. I concentrated on making myself stay as motionless as possible. I was certain Meyso and Aslada would not allow me to play statue for very long.

  I was right. Aslada grinned brightly down from his over-six-foot height. “You may go to the horizontal bar,” he told me, pointing to an apparatus several feet away, not quite in the middle of the room.

  I started to get to my feet, trying to keep the weights from moving too much. Aslada immediately grabbed me by the back of my ne
ck. “I love how your breasts sway when you crawl,” he said with a dark chuckle. “That’s what I want you to do.”

  I started to shudder and twin stabs of hurt reminded me extra movement was not my friend. Crap. Crawling meant there was no way those dangles wouldn’t swing. My obedience was about to get one hell of a test.

  I sank down on my hands and knees. “Keep up with me,” Aslada said, squelching any hope of moving slowly enough to keep the rocking of the weights at a minimum.

  He didn’t walk fast, but those long legs covered a lot of ground with a single stride. I scrambled after him on the padded floor, my breaths coming in loud sobs as the dangles swung like frantic pendulums. The weight alone would have been enough to hurt. With the added squeezing, I suffered double.

  Usually, going up to one of the contraptions in this room of sensual torments gives me anxiety. I was relieved to reach the horizontal bar, one of the least fearsome devices present. It gave me hope my poor boobs would get a chance to recover.