by Ivy Barrett
Mastered for Their Use
By
Ivy Barrett
Copyright © 2018 by Stormy Night Publications and Ivy Barrett
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Barrett, Ivy
Mastered for Their Use
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Images by iStock/MRBIG_PHOTOGRAPHY, iStock/Jacob Wackerhausen, and Dreamstime/Luca Oleastri
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Additional Books in the Ventori Masters Series
More Stormy Night Books by Ivy Barrett
Ivy Barrett Links
Chapter One
Nomani House, Planet Tavor
Azra Nomani stood beside his bed with his hands clasped behind his back, not trusting himself not to touch the female lying there. Her name was Erin Dorati and she was easily the most attractive female he’d ever seen. With long, vivid red hair and alabaster skin, she called to him, stirred his most savage hunger until he could think of nothing but her night and day. Though closed at the moment, her eyes were the same deep blue as the skies over Tavor. Her full lips, dainty nose, and high cheekbones gave her a classic beauty. At least by human standards. Most Tavorians—who had grayish blue hair, very dark eyes, and skin the color of smoke—would consider her odd, even ugly. But Azra was not like most Tavorians. He had traveled extensively and interacted with races from all over the inhabited galaxies. Each had their own appeal, and Erin was no exception.
His gaze swept downward from her face. She was covered by bedding. Only her shoulders and arms were visible. But he’d been tending her since her rescue, so he was well acquainted with her lovely form. Her body was lean, yet sweetly curved, perfectly proportioned and graceful. And he desperately wanted to touch her.
He scoffed at the ridiculous understatement. He didn’t just want to touch her, he wanted to penetrate and possess her, to overwhelm her senses and infiltrate her mind. In a word, he wanted to master her. Unable to resist the dark urges any longer, he unclasped his hands and slowly reached toward her.
“Don’t even think about it!”
Azra lowered his arm and took a deep breath before turning around. Urrya, the more assertive of Azra’s two podmates, stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. Iridescent color streaked through his dark eyes like multicolor bolts of lightning. Dark hair just brushed his shoulders and the grim press of his black lips warned of his displeasure.
“She’s unconscious,” Urrya stressed. “Not even Tavorians are craven enough to accost unconscious females.”
Azra snorted scornfully. “Most Tavorians like them wide awake and screaming as they’re defiled in ways you can’t imagine. If their family is there to watch, so much the better.”
A wry smile quirked one corner of Urrya’s mouth. “Oh, it’s going to be an I-hate-all-things-Tavorian sort of day? Thanks for the warning.”
Ignoring the jibe, Azra turned back toward the bed, a bold four-poster luxuriously draped in black and gold. This room, his private sanctuary, was in the oldest part of the sprawling house. Both his podmates chose to occupy the newer section where everything was sleek and comfortable, with all the conveniences technology could provide. Here the walls were stone, the roof supported by exposed timbers, and a massive fireplace provided the only heat. Though filled with antique treasures many considered priceless, it was the primitive esthetic that appealed to Azra.
“She’s doing much better today,” Azra admitted.
“Good. Then release the healing thrall,” Urrya countered without pause.
“Soon.” He wasn’t quite ready to begin the arduous process of taming their skittish mate. Everything would unfold much smoother if he laid some groundwork first.
Urrya sighed. “You’ve been saying that for three days now.”
Azra didn’t bother with a response. He’d release her when he was damn good and ready and not before. Twelve days ago he’d been studying an ancient text when Urrya’s terrified call startled him out of his contemplation. Summoning an interdimensional portal, Azra responded immediately. He’d expected to find Urrya in some sort of peril. Only the strongest emotions activated their psychic link. Instead he found his podmate kneeling beside a frail-looking human female.
“Save her, please,” Urrya had pleaded, looking more desperate than Azra had ever seen him. Urrya was a fierce Ventori Defender, a member of the elite Brokvata, an honor very few attained. Nothing frightened or upset him. So why was he shaken by this scrap of a girl? Urrya’s next words answered Azra’s unspoken question. “She’s our mate.”
‘Our’ meant Urrya’s and Oseth’s, of course. Tavorians didn’t have soulmates. Many believed Tavorians didn’t have souls. Inhabitants of Tavor were feared and mistrusted all over the inhabited galaxies. Generally for good reason.
Azra looked at the female more closely. At first glance, she’d appeared unimpressive, but something about her affected him, stirring desires and impulses he didn’t understand. He shifted his gaze back to his podmate. “If I save her, I own her. It’s Tavorian law.”
“I don’t care. Do it.”
Urrya didn’t care that another male would own his mate? Now that was interesting. Urrya’s Ventori side was honor bound to protect females, his mate most of all. But his Celestian side could be unpredictable, and much more dangerous. Which side was in control right now? “You will not interfere regardless of what I need to do to save her?”
Urrya tensed, hands tightly fisted. “Yes, damn you. Yes!” He ground out the words between clenched teeth, clearly resenting the concession.
Azra fought back a smile. This should be fun. He walked forward as Urrya moved out of the way. They were in the vast wasteland surrounding Protectorate Headquarters. Repeated Skarilian attacks had devastated this area of the sector humans called Texas. What was this female doing out here all alone? Bending to one knee, he splayed his fingers over her upper chest and quickly scanned. “Her life force is barely discernable. I’m not even sure I can save this one.”
“But you’ll try?” Urrya’s strange, changeable eyes bore into his, pleading. “You said you’d try.”
Knowing time was of the essence, Azra scooped up the woman and stepped back through the portal, leaving it open long enough for Urrya to follow.
Azra spent the next twelve days pouring energy into the female. It was exhausting and dangerous work, but he stubbornly persevered. She was weak and slow to respond, forcing him to use a deep, healing thrall to keep her alive long enough for him to meticulously rebuild her strength. Once she stabilized and Azra had been sure she’d live, he touched her mind, concerned that there was a psychological component to her condition. Her physical issues had been resolved days ago, yet he sensed no resistance to the thrall, no desire to return to wakefulness. It was highly unusual. And he’d been right, horribly right. Erin was so depressed because o
f the devastation and loss left behind by the Skarilian attacks, and so terrified of being claimed by a Ventori pod that she was literally willing herself into an early grave.
He couldn’t really blame her. She’d endured a brutal one-two punch. First, the Skarilians, a vile group of conquerors who ravaged one world after another, had set their sights on Earth. In a matter of days, two-thirds of the planet lay in ruins and hundreds of millions were dead. No one was quite sure what the Skarilians wanted. Their attacks seemed to have no pattern, no strategy. And their tactics, if one could call slaughter and blanket bombing a tactic, appeared arbitrary and pointless.
He shook away the speculation. Erin’s second shock had been even worse. At least to her. After being kidnapped by evil humans, she’d ended up in the hands of the Ventori Protectorate. Ventor, like so many other planets, had been decimated by the Skarilians, so the Protectorate was formed and now traveled from star system to star system defending lesser developed planets against their mutual enemy. Unfortunately for Erin, one of the Ventori doctors determined which protein in human blood was making them incompatible with Ventori males. So human females without this protein—they were known as Rh-negative females—would be able to bear Ventori young. Erin was one such female. So she went from rescued victim to potential mate and her treatment ever since had been rather selfish on the part of the Ventori. The high council insisted that she allow at least three of her matched pods to ‘court’ her before they would let her go. Of course, the Ventori concept of courtship was more like ruthless seduction than candlelight dinners and long drives along the coast. And to top everything else off, Erin was a virgin.
“You said she’s your mate,” Azra reminded. “How badly do you want this female?” He knew the answer of course. The Ventori would do anything to ensure the safety and happiness of their mates. They had no choice. The Skarilians had slaughtered all the Ventori females as punishment for their stubborn resistance. Without a massive influx of hybrid offspring, the Ventori would go extinct as the current generation died off. Endangered predators always became ruthless and hyper-focused on survival.
“Not badly enough to let you fuck with her mind,” Urrya sneered, surprising Azra.
Fine. He’d get right to the point. “You promised not to interfere with her recovery. At the moment your mate is so despondent, she has lost the will to live. I would like to guide her through a series of dreams that—”
“No.”
“I wasn’t asking permission,” Azra snapped, no longer amused by their banter. He faced Urrya again, wanting him to see the determination in Azra’s eyes. “She’s mine to do with as I will. Provoke me too far and I won’t share her with you or Oseth.”
Urrya just glared at him. It was mostly an empty threat and his podmate knew it. Tavorian law gave Azra ownership of the female, but Azra seldom paid attention to Tavorian law. They were a hybrid pod, brought together by similar persecution. And pods shared everything.
“I understand how important she is to you and Oseth. Without these dreams it could take years to draw her from her melancholy.”
“I told you to stay out of her mind. How the fuck do you know she’s ‘melancholy’?” Urrya had just gone from annoyed to angry.
Well, Azra was angry too. He’d risked his life several times over to save Erin. He would not let that effort be in vain because his podmate felt squeamish about psychic interventions. But what did he expect. Urrya was Ventori and the Ventori might have advanced technology, but at heart they were still brutal savages. They mistrusted anything they didn’t understand. “Get Oseth. We’ll take a vote.”
“No! You are not screwing with her mind and that’s final. She must willingly accept our claim or it’s not valid.”
Azra crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring Urrya’s pose. “That will never happen unless you let me do this. How long do you and Oseth have to court her? One moon cycle? You won’t convince her to speak to you in so short a time, much less surrender her soft, white body.”
“Did I hear my name?” Oseth shoved Urrya into the bedroom so he could take his place in the doorway. Oseth’s hair was streaked with orange and his eyes were shockingly green; both were gifts from his Partonese mother. His skin was golden, but he’d inherited brown hair and the intricate pattern on his torso and arms known as an orvatta from his Ventori father. He was perpetually cheerful and optimistic, which was fortunate because Urrya and Azra both tended to be dark and brooding. “What’s going on?” His bright gaze shot to the bed and worry creased his brow. “Has Erin had a setback? I thought she was nearly recovered.”
“She is,” Urrya insisted. “Now Azra wants to play mind games with her.”
Oseth took a step closer to Azra as he asked, “What sort of mind games?”
Typical. The other two frequently ganged up on him. They all had Ventori blood, but Azra no longer acknowledged the fact. The Ventori high council had banished him from Protectorate-controlled space, so Azra saw no reason to adhere to their laws and practices. He often felt the same way about laws in general, but that was beside the point.
“Erin was so terrified of being claimed by a Ventori pod that she headed out across the wasteland on a skimmer,” Azra told them. Likely they already knew. He just wanted them to understand that he also knew the reason for her reckless flight into the desert. “Penetrating that fear in conventional ways will take months, perhaps years of intensive therapy. And none of us are equipped to facilitate a psychological recovery in that way.”
Oseth looked at Urrya, appearing almost panicked. “We only have a month. Maybe he’s right.”
“No one can reach her here and he knows it,” Urrya argued. “We have as long as we need. As long as she needs.”
He was right, sort of. Only those with access to an interdimensional portal could easily travel from Earth to Tavor. To Azra’s knowledge, no one in the Protectorate could summon such an opening. Even Urrya and Oseth would be stranded on one side or the other if it weren’t for him. The journey by spaceship would take nearly a standard year, and the Protectorate had yet to pinpoint the exact location of the elusive planet. Still, time was only one factor. Her inherent fear of aliens was much more of an obstacle.
He crossed the room and stood in front of Urrya. Oseth would do whatever Urrya did. Such had always been the case. Oseth idolized the older warrior. So Azra must convince Urrya. “We could hire a therapist, and patiently allow her to recover in the human way. In the meantime you and Oseth would be discharged from the Protectorate, which means you dishonor the Brokvata. Your brother would be humiliated and you would both become completely dependent upon me, at least until you found work with another mercenary band. Does that sound appealing?”
“You’re being melodramatic.” Despite his dismissive words, Urrya’s defiance faltered. Uncertainty was written all over his face.
“Actually, I was being conservative. Melodramatic would have had you both in Protectorate custody and a battle team on their way here to retrieve Erin by force. I presume you don’t intend to give her back at the end of the thirty-day courtship.”
“Chancellor Savator is right. You’re a manipulative bastard.”
Azra chuckled, well used to Savator’s disdain. Bronsen Savator had been the driving force behind Azra’s expulsion from Protectorate-controlled space. He shook away the annoyance and focused on the situation at hand. “The treatment I’m proposing is much more effective and infinitely faster. By guiding her through a series of dreams I can show her what life with us would be like, how hard we would work to make her happy. She would experience the joy and the pleasure of being our mate. She would understand that, even though we are not human, there is nothing to fear.”
“You would insure that she interacts with all three of us, not just you?” Urrya persisted. “She needs to understand that we are a unit. She cannot have one without the others.”
“There are limits to my control, but I will do my best to convey that message.”
Oseth mov
ed a little closer to Urrya. “I agree with Urrya. You can’t use this as an opportunity to bond with her alone. The dream has to include us or all bets are off.”
For a long time they stared at each other, Urrya’s gaze mildly hostile, Azra’s challenging. Azra glanced at Oseth. As he expected, Oseth was looking at Urrya.
Suddenly, Urrya’s chin tilted up and challenge arched his bows. “I’ll allow it on one condition.”
“You’re in no position to make demands. Erin is mine to do with as I—”
“That’s the condition,” Urrya cut in. “You must rescind your ownership on Erin. If we cannot convince her to accept our claim, I want her to go free. That means free of us and free of the Protectorate. I want to set her up with an entirely new life on a world where—”
“Never!” Now his hands were clenched so tightly his nails bit into his palms. “She breathes because I gave her my breath. Her heart beats because I established its rhythm. My energy saturates every molecule of her body. Erin is mine!”
“Erin is ours!” Urrya shouted right back.
“Can I propose a compromise,” Oseth chimed in, familiar with their battle of wills. The other two looked at him. “Azra will agree not to tell her about the ridiculously out of date custom until—”
“It’s not a ‘custom.’ It’s the law,” Azra stressed.
“Same dif.” Oseth waved away the objection. “Don’t tell her until after she has accepted our claim. You probably need to mention it before we actually claim her, but she’ll have enough to accept in the next few weeks. Besides, that gives me and Urrya more time to convince you that a willing mate is much more satisfying than a resentful slave.”
Azra stroked his chin, as he often did when he deliberated. There were two separate issues here. One was the philosophical debate over ownership versus willing submission. Could someone without free will truly surrender control? The topic was convoluted and evocative, so he focused on Oseth’s suggestion. Overcoming Erin’s fear and despondency was a much higher priority, so they’d take this one step at a time.