Friday, September 03, 2010

Codename Courtesan: Autumn by Aubrey Ross

Codename Courtesan: Autumn by Aubrey  Ross

Read an excerpt

Codename Courtesan: Autumn

by Aubrey RossCover art: Bryan Keller
ISBN: 978-1-60521-415-3
Genre(s): Paranormal, Action/Adventure, BDSM
Series: Codename Courtesan
Length: Novella


General Ra'jen Noirte returns from combat to find a woman bound, abused, and abandoned. His healing touch soon turns to hunger as she stirs beneath his hands. With milk white skin and flame red hair, she tempts him to abandon his responsibilities and indulge long-neglected needs. Every kiss, every caress distracts from his mission, and the fate of the universe depends on his success.

Autumn never dreamed a man could be as captivating as Ra'jen. On the surface he is deadly aggression, but she has glimpsed his tormented soul. Though he serves the enemy, she suspects they have similar goals. More than her heart is on the line as they form an uneasy alliance.

Codename Courtesan: Autumn
Aubrey Ross
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2010 Aubrey Ross

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Naked except for a black lace thong, Autumn knelt on a mirror-topped table with her wrists bound in leather cuffs and suspended above her head. A blood red scarf had been slipped between her teeth, crossed at the back of her head, and then tied to cover her mouth completely. She stared straight ahead, focusing past the leering stares and lust-hardened expressions of the soldiers crowded into the briefing room. None of these men were allowed to touch her. She was a whipping girl, part of the entertainment, yet not available for sexual interaction.
"Isn't she beautiful, gentlemen?" Rebecca purred. The short, braided strands of her velvet whip whooshed as she brought it down in a dramatic arc, barely missing her thigh. "Her skin is perfect and so white. It's almost a shame to mark her." She laughed, the sound light and playful. "Almost."
Even knowing the blow was coming didn't prepare Autumn for the sting. Rebecca slapped the strands against Autumn's tight belly and she inhaled, clenching her teeth against the gag. Bright red marks lined her fair skin as heat spread through her abdomen, collecting between her thighs. Training to become a pleasure ambassador had been intensive and long. Autumn had discovered many unexpected facts about her body. One of the most surprising had been her affinity to pain.
"It's all so sad for poor Autumn," Rebecca went on. "I do anything I want, I misbehave constantly, and she receives my punishment." She whipped one of Autumn's breasts and then the other, spreading the heat and anticipation. The older woman's control kept the strokes sharp enough to draw blood to the surface without breaking the skin.
Autumn's nipples peaked as her body processed the stimulation. Rebecca grabbed the edge of the wheeled table and carefully turned it around. The cables securing Autumn's arms twisted, drawing them even higher.
"And look at this ass." Rebecca squeezed one cheek, her long nails dragging across the smooth skin as she pulled her hand away. "Have you ever seen an ass more in need of spanking?" She slapped Autumn hard with her open hand and waited for her skin to react. "A perfect handprint. Very good, Autumn. You're the best whipping girl I've ever had."
Muffled chuckles peppered the room, but Autumn tuned out her surroundings. A large mirror had been set up near the wall allowing the men to see her front while Rebecca worked on her back. Rebecca spanked her other cheek, making it appear as if bloody hands had squeezed her ass. It was all orchestrated, a practiced routine they had perfected in training.
Rebecca ran the whip handle up the inside of Autumn's thigh and rubbed it against the scrap of lace covering her folds. "She's wet, boys. Shall I see if I can make her come?"
"I can make her come," one of the soldiers bragged. "Let me touch her, and she'll be dripping in a minute or less."
Rebecca's laugh was low and sensual this time. "She's dripping now." She slipped her fingers inside Autumn's panties and gathered some cream. "See?"
"Rip off the thong," someone else suggested. "Let her juices pool on top of the table."
Staring into the mirror, Autumn tried to catch Rebecca's gaze. They weren't supposed to deviate from the routine. It was designed to excite while keeping Autumn objectified, unattainable.
"Sorry, boys. The thong's there to remind you that she's not cleared for fucking."
Autumn's relieved sigh was premature. Rebecca swung the whip with punishing force, blanketing the small of her back with needling pain. Autumn gasped and arched, but the next lash was even harder. The whip was made of velvet, for God's sake! How was Rebecca making it hurt so badly?
Unlike the teasing strokes Rebecca had delivered to her breasts, these lashes seared and burned. Autumn twisted, writhing helplessly, her screams muffled by the gag. Tears blurred her vision then anger flared through her shock.
She demanded that Rebecca stop, but her words were garbled by the material between her teeth. Why was Rebecca doing this? They were supposed to be a team!
The whip connected again and again, the surrounding noise escalating with each swing. Cheers and whistles, and the occasional gasp as blood trailed down Autumn's back. Shame crept through her anger. Did they believe she deserved this pain? Why was no one questioning Rebecca's viciousness?
"She's had enough." A deep voice cut through the others and the next lash never came.
Autumn shifted her weight and fire rolled from her shoulders to the bend of her knees. Tears escaped the corners of her eyes, and she moaned.
"Poor, precious Autumn," Rebecca whispered bitterly. "Are you still too good to fuck?" She threw the whip onto the tabletop and stepped away. "Come on, boys. That always makes me horny. Who wants to go first?"
Three of the soldiers rushed forward. Autumn watched them in the mirror through a haze of pain. One of the men reached for the whip, but Rebecca stopped him. "No one touches her but me."
Autumn whimpered at the belated mercy. He stepped back, but remained near the table, staring up at Autumn as he rubbed the bulge in the front of his pants.
There were five pleasure ambassadors scattered about the room, but there were eleven men. Autumn grasped the cables connected to her wrist cuffs, suddenly wishing she were not bound. Even with two embassy guards overseeing the action, they were outnumbered.
The trainers had assured Autumn abuse was not tolerated. The embassies were the only game in town, so no one in the Protectorate wanted to be blacklisted.
The Protectorate. Autumn shuddered. They were the occupying army, the henchmen for the mysterious Gathosians who now controlled Earth. In a few short months the Protectorate had reduced Earth to a subjugated mining colony. They struck North America first, subduing the "superpower" as an example to the rest of the world.
The first designer virus targeted those not strong enough to work. The second wiped out most of the female population. The third killed anyone who had not yet gone through puberty. The Gathosians wanted their workforce unencumbered by sentimental distractions, and they weren't interested in longevity. Once the oceans had been stripped of their salt, the Gathosians would move on to another planet.
The women and children unlucky enough to survive the pandemic were rounded up and taken to training camps, while the devastated men were forced to deal with the bodies. Hundreds of millions of bodies.
Allowing her physical pain to burn through the memories, Autumn returned to the present and her heart sank to the pit of her stomach. This situation wasn't much better than the devastation she'd been remembering.
Laborer or whore. Those were the choices left for human females. Or breeder, the most degrading choice of all. Even if she'd chosen to subject herself to the back-breaking work and toxic environment of the sodium refineries, she would have been fighting off the unwanted advances of her coworkers. Rape had become so common it was no longer considered a crime. Females were so rare it was unthinkable to go anywhere without protection. The human concept of morality had been eroded by this new reality.
Rebecca's rhythmic cries drew Autumn's attention to her tormentor. The first soldier had bent her over the conference table and was fucking her from behind. Autumn could see everything clearly in the mirror. Rebecca braced herself on her forearms so the second man could play with her breasts while he waited for his turn to fuck her. The first soldier grasped her hips and slammed into her fast and hard, focused entirely on his pleasure.
Autumn gritted her teeth and looked away from Rebecca, but everywhere she looked it was more of the same. She had no idea why the "fuck-fest" had been arranged for these soldiers. Had they performed unusually well, or had they simply been in the field for an unusually long period of time? The briefing room wasn't large, so no one bothered with modesty. Cocks were sucked and ambassadors fucked in every conceivable position.
And Autumn found it all repulsive.
Was this really her fate? Not every party requested a whipping girl, so eventually she would have to allow members of the Protectorate access to her body. Her blood ran cold at the thought. Could she really shut down her mind and become a passive vessel for the monsters that had ravaged her world?
Soldier One came with a shuddering moan and immediately pulled out of Rebecca's pussy. His buddy took his place before Rebecca had a chance to straighten her back.
"She's so fucking slippery," Soldier Two complained. "I can hardly feel her cunt."
"So smear my cum on your cock and use her ass," Soldier One advised.
Rebecca adjusted her stance, giving Soldier Two a better angle as he pulled out of her pussy and penetrated her ass.
Autumn closed her eyes, tension knotting her stomach. It was all so mechanical, so impersonal, so... meaningless. How did the ambassadors stand it night after night?
"You've never done it. Have you?" Soldier Three faced her again, dark eyes gleaming with desire. "You're always the whipping girl. No one ever gets to fuck you."
She glared at him, saved from replying by the gag covering her mouth.
"She's new," Rebecca panted. "And she's the trainer's pet. Whatever Autumn wants, Autumn gets."
Soldier Two pulled Rebecca away from the table and urged her to her knees. "Come on, Bret. You can have her mouth."
Bret's dark gaze swept over Autumn with obvious longing then he skirted the table and joined his friends. Rebecca raised her head and parted her lips, taking Bret's engorged cock into her mouth. They passed her back and forth, one cock driving inward as the other pulled back.
The double doors on the far side of the room burst open and a red-faced soldier shouted, "Get them out of here! Noirte just set down!"
The men righted their uniforms as the ambassadors frantically gathered discarded clothing. Autumn yanked on the cuffs and cried out behind the gag, trying to draw anyone's attention.
Rebecca looked at her and smiled, a cruel bowing of her painted lips, and then she ran for the nearest exit.

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