The Alien's Mark (Captives of Pra'kir Book 4)

by Megan Michaels

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Wake up, pet.” Blythe couldn’t even open both eyes at once, peeping at him, one eye at a time, until she gave up, closing them again.

  Xan placed soft kisses all over her face. “Come on, sweets.” His cool finger tenderly touched the sensitive, inflamed tissue around her tattoo, stretching her labia this way and that.

  Blythe stiffened, remembering her tattoo. Anticipating excruciating pain, she held her breath until his examination was completed.

  He rose from the bed, taking his gloves off. “I’ll be showering you myself, today. I want to keep a close eye on that, treating it with ointments and medication. I swear, I’m filled with pride every time I look at it.

  Pulling her to stand near the bed, he slipped her arms into a plush, fur-lined sweatshirt, zipped it up tightly, and pulled the hood over her head.

  “What are you doing? Ganza dresses me sometimes, but you never want clothes on me.” At first she felt shocked, then a niggling of insecurity and anger rose. Had he grown tired of her body? “I’m sorry.” The tickling in her nose signaled tears. She blinked hard, forcing them back.

  His eyebrows furrowed, halting the tying of her hood. “You’re sorry for what?”

  “For being fat. You’re covering my body for a reason.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “Now, you listen here, I’m going to give you a warning. Are you listening?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Master,” he growled in frustration.

  “Yes, Master.”

  “You are forbidden to call yourself fat. I love these lush breasts and the curve of your bottom. An alien as big as me wouldn’t be happy with a sickly twig of a woman. You’ll never be allowed to lose weight—ever.” Grasping a buttock in each hand, he pulled her tightly to his groin, grinding his hard cock against her soft belly. “—All of this delicious body—is mine.”

  He pulled away, his cock jutting upward inside his pants. He ran his hands over her covered arms. “And, I put this sweatshirt on you because it’s freezing outside, and I don’t want you getting hypothermia while pissing in the frosty grass out back.”

  She dropped her head, groaning loudly, wondering how long she’d be required to do this. He kept her body flushed with fluid, her bladder screaming for relief every hour to two hours all night long. She’d fought the process, feeling the sting of a switch more than once in the quiet dark of the night, her screeching echoing off the trees and house.

  He snapped his fingers, pointing toward the floor.

  She knelt obediently on all fours, watching his gorgeous ass walking her toward the back door. The muscled curve of his ass filled his pants, and she wanted to bite it. Blythe wondered if he ever wore casual clothes, or did her lover always dress up.

  As he entered the kitchen, with her in tow, he addressed his assistant. “Ganza, I’ll be bathing my pet today, but will need your assistance later when I receive a guest into our home. Billex, good morning.”

  “Good morning, Sir.” Billex nodded at her Master, smirking at Blythe once again crawling to the backyard, obviously delighting in her dilemma.

  Ganza smiled as they passed. “As you wish, Sir. I’ll be available when required.”

  The door slammed shut behind her. The grass was cold and wet on both her hands and knees. He walked her near the bushes again, finding a patch she hadn’t used already.

  “Assume the position, girl. And hurry.”

  She crouched over, hugging her legs, doing her best to keep warm, her body shivering. His eyes were riveted on her pussy, but she knew to keep herself wide open. Last night, she’d tried closing her thighs to hinder his view, and he’d switched her bottom until she screamed, pissing on the ground during his relentless lashing of her poor backside.

  If he wished to stare at her cunt, she’d keep her legs spread, closing her eyes against his gawking, concentrating on the flow of her urine. In her mind, she could see her urine traveling down to her bladder, the urge intensifying, and then the resultant release of the muscles, the trickle of piss whispering from her body.

  “Good girl.”

  She opened her eyes to see his smiling face looking down at her, a faint dimple showing on his cheek.

  “You may have earned back the use of the bathroom.”

  She crawled through the yard, hoping this would be her last trip to void out back.

  “What lesson have you learned from this chastisement?”

  “To hide nothing from my Master. Everything is to be open to him.” It sounded rote, but she not only knew it, she felt it to her core. And, she knew he’d be pleased she remembered it.

  He stopped walking, pivoting to face her. “Well done! I’ll say it again, pet. When you want to be and you put your mind to it, you’re such a good girl.”

  Pride filled her chest. She couldn’t help herself. She beamed back at him. His pleasure and words of affirmation meant more than anything these days.

  ***

  He’d put Blythe into her crate in his office. She lay dozing quietly, covered with a blanket. It amazed him how sometimes the most chaotic and intense situations in life could be the very thing that turned a relationship or situation around.

  Blythe running away had almost given him a heart attack, but sealed his devotion to her. He knew without a shred of doubt she’d been made for him, his partner, his pet. Nothing mattered anymore—not his career, not his medical research, even attaining the title of surgeon general had dimmed in comparison to losing her.

  And, on the flip side, she had run away, wanting only freedom and departure not only from him but also his planet. But once left on her own, she’d decided she not only needed his protection but also craved his dominance and guidance, missing him, his home, and his rules.

  Although he had punished her—pretty severely—and she deserved every bit of it in his opinion, she had settled into it, declaring her love for him, her devotion, and the fact she no longer desired to leave him or his planet.

  The fact that she’d agreed to wear his initials as a tattoo on her labia had him shaking his head. He’d imagined marking a woman—his woman—for years, but underneath had always felt it would be something never spoken aloud and never attained. The surprise when she nodded, giving her consent, sacrificing her flesh for him… It had bowled him over.

  He raked a hand through his hair. Now to deal with his next predicament. He paced on the carpet in front of his fireplace, worry gripping his heart.

  Amshal, the oldest member of the Council of Nine, had called him this morning, bright and early, requesting a meeting.

  Can he have heard about Blythe running off? Will he take her away and place her in another home?

  She slept so peacefully. Her chest rose rhythmically, her eyes fluttering with her dreams. He wouldn’t let him take her away. They’d declared their love for each other. He’d plead for mercy if necessary.

  Billex rapped on the wooden door. “Sir, Amshal Thanius is here to see you.”

  Striding to the door, Xan found the Amshal, stooped over from his one hundred fifty-eight years, smiling up at him. “Dr. Breckett, how are you this fine day?”

  “I’m well, Your Honor. Come in.” He swung his arm wide for his guest to enter. Addressing Billex, he said, “Tell Ganza, I’ll need her to bring Blythe upstairs for a nap in a few minutes.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Shutting the door, Xan turned, finding his guest staring at the crate, observing Xan’s pet sleeping. “Uh, that’s Blythe Wainwright. You remember her—”

  “I know exactly who she is—she’s one of the women who crashed on our shores. The reason my old, paunchy body has been splashed all over the monitors in everyone’s homes, running for dear life. She’s the biting brat we let you foster.” With a cursory glance over his shoulder, he said. “How’s that going, by the way? The biting.”

  “We’ve had some rough patches. She’s stubborn, Sir. It’s taken…er…some stern discipline to bring her to the point where she voluntarily
crawled into this crate to nap today.”

  Amshal chuckled quietly, shaking his head. “I have no doubt. The vigor of youth—both of you. I’m afraid I don’t have the energy for such a woman any longer.” He leaned forward and gently picked up her blanket to peep at her ass. Whistling low, he dropped it back onto her bruised bottom. “I’m assuming that was the penalty for running away this week?”

  Xan couldn’t hold back the shock and worry.

  Amshal heard.

  “You know about that?”

  Amshal flicked his wrist at Xan. “Don’t worry. Only a couple of us have heard. She was spotted by a flight monitor running through the fields.”

  Damn monitor bugs. They kept surveillance of the land, thousands of them. Scouring the ground for thieves, runaways, and any other illicit behaviors warranting action by the police or Council.

  Amshal responded, “I squashed it quickly for you. Any scrutiny has been dispelled with destruction of the video. You’re safe, Doctor.”

  “Thank you, Sir. I appreciate it.”

  “She deserved a black-and-blue bottom. Don’t you feel guilty about punishing her so severely. She needs to know how serious and devastating it could’ve been for her if others had seen this—like Breen or Rowth. You could have lost her, you know?”

  “I’m well aware.” Xan cleared his throat, a blush rising to his cheeks. “Actually, I thought that was the reason for your visit today.”

  “Oh no. I have good news for you. Well…I think it’s good news. We’ll see what you think.”

  A gentle knock on the door, interrupted them.

  “Come in.” Xan shouted.

  “You called me, Sir?” Ganza peeped around the door.

  His girl’s eyes slowly opened, startling and holding her blanket to her chest when she saw a stranger at her crate. “Master?”

  “I’m here, pet.” He wrapped his arm around the old man. “This is Amshal Thanius, from the Council of Nine. He came to visit me and found you sleeping in your crate. We’ve been talking about what a bad girl you’ve been.

  Her eyes widened. Xan knew it was probably a little cruel—well, probably evil—to worry her so but knew the lesson would be far-reaching. “One of Endermere’s millions of monitor bugs caught you running through the fields between the house and our cabin.”

  “Am I…are you here to arrest me?” Her green eyes were wide with worry.

  “No, my dear. I’m not here to arrest you. But if someone else had seen that video, you could very well be awaiting death in a jail cell. It was foolish to do what you did.” Amshal wagged a finger at her.

  “I’m sorry, Sir.” She looked from Amshal to Xan, her eyebrows knitted.

  Amshal continued. “I’ve destroyed the video, and you’re safe. But I told Dr. Breckett you’re a very lucky girl since all you ended up with was a bruised backside. It could’ve been much, much worse for you.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Xan helped her climb out of the crate. “Stand straight, arms behind you, girl. Present for our guest.”

  She pulled her hands from hiding her pussy, clasping them as she’d been trained.

  Such a good girl.

  Except for the slight quiver in her chin, it wasn’t obvious she had any reservation about being naked before the councilman. She held her head high, her back straight, staring ahead.

  “Good girl.” Xan stroked her face lightly with his forefinger.

  “Your Master blistered your backside pretty good, didn’t he, girl?” Amshal sauntered around her, pausing briefly behind her. “Did you only receive bruises? Or did you also receive a good lesson with those bruises?”

  “I’ve learned my lesson, Sir.”

  “Good. Glad to hear it. Are you happy here, Blythe?” The wise, white-haired man appeared younger than his age. He stared into her eyes, watching her reaction closely, missing nothing in her nonverbal behavior.

  “Yes, Sir. Very.” She smiled at Xan before returning her attention back to Amshal.

  Stepping back, Amshal pointed toward her sex. “I see you’re wear his initials on your pussy. Were you forced to wear Xan’s mark, or did you willingly take his mark willingly?”

  “I took his mark of my own accord.” She dropped her eyes and took a peek at her tattoo.

  “You’re a lucky man, Xan.”

  “I am, Sir. Thank you.” He turned to his assistant. “Ganza, please take my girl to my bed for a nap.” And then, addressing Blythe. “And, you be a good girl, going directly to sleep. Sweet dreams, my pet.”

  With a hand to her buttocks, he gave her a gentle shove to join Ganza. The two men watched her leave the room, the lock engaging upon their departure.

  “She’ll be a good partner to you, Xan, and you to her, no doubt. I’m glad the fostering system worked for the two of you.”

  “Me too, Sir.” He pointed to a chair. Amshal sat down and Xan sat opposite him. “I’m sure you had other business when you set up this meeting today. What do you need to discuss with me, Councilman?”

  Amshal laced his trembling hands together in his lap. “As you know, I’m the oldest member on the Council. I’ve been part of the Nine for almost seventy years now. I originally thought I’d stay on until I died in my chambers or on my way to work.” He paused, his cloudy blue eyes looking out the window. “But this spaceship from Terra crashing into the shores of Endermere, and the disagreement with my colleagues over what to do with the women, has taken a toll on me. It has made me see how fragile life is and how long I’ve lived. I don’t have much time. My days are limited.”

  Xan shook his head. “Sir, you’re healthy and spry for your age. You have many, many years ahead of you.”

  With another dismissive wave, he shook his head. “I’ve heard all of that before, son. But, I came close to losing my great-great-great-granddaughter that day. Death doesn’t take into account how old you are or how healthy you are. It sneaks in like a thief, boy. I don’t want my last days to be in that stuffy courtroom with those old men. I want to be with my family and grandchildren, laughing on the beach or cooking in my kitchen.”

  “I understand, Sir. I do.” Xan dropped his gaze to the floor before facing Amshal again. “Excuse me for saying so, Sir, but what does any of this have to do with me?”

  “You like getting to the point. I like that in a man.” Taking a deep breath, he began. “You know, when a member of the Council leaves, it is that person’s job to find a replacement. Of course, it has to be voted upon by the Nine, but usually, unless the choice is abominable, they agree, allowing the new member in with no problem. I’d like to recommend you be instated to the Council of Nine as our newest judge.”

  Xan swore his heart stopped beating, and when it began again, it hammered within his chest, blood rushing in his ears. “B-but I’m not even a lawyer. Rowth is supposed to be next in line for the Council.”

  “I don’t like him. He’s never been kind to you, always degrading you in front of us…and others. Your ability to maintain your professional attitude, taking the high ground and maintaining your ethical and moral internal compass, those are the traits of a Council member, at least the member I want replacing me. Besides, with all the research and genome date from your slave, you deserve higher recognition than surgeon general, and this way Dr. Campria keeps his position until he’s ready to retire.”

  Xan knew he shouldn’t care, but he felt bad for Rowth. He’d be livid. And what Amshal said was true. Rowth did degrade him in front of others, but, in particular, he relished taking any and all limelight away from Xan in front of the Council of Nine.

  “So do you accept, Doctor?”

  Xan stuttered. “Y-yes, Sir. I…this is…I would love to accept your generous offer, Sir. Th-thank you.”

  Chuckling, Amshal shook his hand. “Welcome aboard, son. You’ll be so glad you did. There’s no greater job on the planet. And don’t you worry about anything. I’ll call Rowth today and break the bad news to him. He’ll have further chances with other members retiri
ng, but, today, for my position, you are the best man for the job.”

  “I’m stunned. I never in my wildest dreams thought I’d receive a position on the Council. Thank you, Amshal.”

  Abruptly standing, Amshal reached out to shake Xan’s hand again. “I won’t keep you any longer. There will be paperwork, phone calls, and many more meetings. We’ll be spending a lot of time together before I leave. You get back to your pet. Enjoy her son. Life goes by quicker than you imagine. You don’t want any regrets when you reach my age.”

  “Good advice, Sir. I accept it wholeheartedly.”

  Xan walked him to the door and leaned against the cold wood, staring into space, stunned. With no fanfare, no medical breakthrough, and no medals of honor, the job had been placed into his lap.

  A shiver of anxiety ran through him, thinking about Rowth’s reaction—it’d be angry, no doubt. Hopefully, Rowth would take time off from work, allowing himself to adjust to the news.

  Feeling almost giddy, he ran up the stairs two at a time to tell Blythe.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The next morning, he came from the shower into the bedroom to find her sitting cross-legged on the bed, her breasts plump and warm, and her nipples softened. She was tracing the pattern on the bedsheet with her finger.

  “Pet? What’s wrong? What are you thinking about?” He slid onto the bed, and, with a finger to her chin, tilted her head up.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nuh-uh. That won’t fly. Again.” He dipped his chin in warning. “What is wrong? What are you thinking about?”

  She hesitated, but only for a moment. “I…I’ve never worried about this before. Never had anyone I cared enough about. Do you…how do you…do you want children?” Her lashes were wet, her tears tracking silently down her face.

  He grasped her hand, encasing it in his large one. “Do you wish you could have a baby?”

  “I asked you first.” She smiled, her eyes crinkling with mischief.