A Baby for Pra'kir (Captives of Pra'kir Book 6)

by Megan Michaels

  Blythe rocked her hips, doing her best to avoid the swats with no success. Her lungs seemed to freeze, no longer able to take air in, her pain having driven her breath from her.

  “You will not shake your head or say no to me. Do you understand?” He focused his spanks on her thighs, and even held them open to slap the sensitive flesh on the inner thighs.

  “Ow!” Having found her ability to inhale again, she sobbed forlornly, hanging her head in complete misery. Her bottom ached so badly, she swore it was in danger of going numb.

  Finally, Xan stopped punishing her ass, and she only realized it when he’d plopped her onto her unsteady feet, standing her up between his knees. “This!” He pointed to the floor between his feet. “This is where you stand when you’re told to come here. Do you comprehend that, girl?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Blythe stood in her own shame and remorse, feeling very little and sad. Hiccups racked her body, the gulps of air she sucked in sounding loud in the quiet room.

  Xan leaned back, cupping his face with his hand, and watched her, his expression neutral.

  Unsure of what to do with her hands, she twisted them in front of her. Worry over disappointing her Master and over the care of her infant, along with the complete exhaustion she’d been dealing with, overwhelmed her and she started sobbing anew.

  “Oh, baby.” He pulled her onto his lap, tilting her upon her hip, keeping her inflamed buttocks off his clothing. “You cry it out. It’s going to be okay. Once you’ve been punished for what you’ve done today, you’ll be put to bed for a long nap.”

  “But—”

  “Shhhh.” He covered her lips with his forefinger. “No talking.”

  Xan stroked her hair, swaying with her, and caressing her back. Every now and then, he’d lightly rub her bottom, cooing. “Poor girl. You’ve been such a bad girl, Daddy will take care of this. Daddy always cares for his girls.”

  It made her smile to hear him referring to himself as Daddy. He reveled in his new role, and she loved being the beneficiary of his protectiveness and caring. He’d always been attentive, but he’d changed with fatherhood — and she couldn’t be happier.

  Well, she could be if this session were over.

  But, overall, she had reaped the benefits of his newfound role.

  “Okay, girl. Your breathing is back to normal. Stand in front of me.”

  This time she didn’t hesitate to place herself between his feet. And he nodded, giving her a crooked grin. “Good girl.”

  “Thank you, Master.”

  He cleared his throat. “Tell me what you did to deserve a spanking, and apologize to your Master.”

  If she could make her heart stop pounding against her ribcage, she might find a way to speak. “Uhm… I swore at you.”

  “You did.”

  “I yelled at you, disrespected you, and I’m really, really sorry.” His image blurred as her eyes filled with tears.

  “You only think you’re sorry.”

  Well, wasn’t that just fucking ominous?

  “Let’s get on with it.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her over his left leg, covering her own legs with his right one. “Hands.” Grabbing her hands with his huge one, he had her restrained, unable to move even an inch.

  Gooseflesh rose on her body as he opened the drawer of his table. She knew what was in that drawer. “Oh, nooooooo!” Keening loudly, she shifted her hips, the skin on her backside crawling in anticipation.

  The tawse.

  They had another name for it on Pra’kir. But on Earth, it was known as a Scottish tawse. She’d always heard how vile it was, but there weren’t sufficient words to describe the agony from the forked tongues of leather. The bite and sting would last for hours; remnants of pain lingered for days.

  “You’ve been snippy, sarcastic, and just plain defiant. I was willing to tolerate it, knowing that the adjustment was difficult for both of us. But know this, girl: I’ll not tolerate any further defiance on your part. Every single time you step out of line, the discipline will be immediate. Apparently, you aren’t someone who can deal with a bit of leniency. No, it’s consistency that you crave.” The leather tongues slid menacingly over her inflamed backside, causing her to clench her sphincter. “Well, my dear, it’s consistency you’re going to receive.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “You’ll be feeling this for a few days. And as much as you sit on your bottom feeding Tegan, it should be a good reminder on how to speak and behave.”

  He didn’t start slow, or give a word of warning. The lash of the leather slapped loudly on her bottom and by the second swipe, she was sobbing.

  Being restrained so tightly made it difficult to deal with, and yet at the same time she felt comforted resting safe in his arms, her body pressed tightly to his thighs. She didn’t have to worry about reaching back or covering.

  She had no doubt that Xan held her in this manner knowing that the bondage would keep her centered, focusing on the pain and not her position or lack of control. Everything blurred with the pain. No longer did the concerns over Tegan, Ganza, or the staff permeate her mind. She could simply feel the pain radiating from her ass and snaking down her legs. Her nose and eyes ran continuously, the sounds of her own cries ringing in her ears.

  “I’m sorry! S-so sorry!”

  “I’m sure you are, dear. But not sorry enough. Not just yet.”

  She wailed at that proclamation, her despair evident in the frantic sobs. The promises made in her mind tumbled out incoherently. “Never again… always nice… never… no swearing… no names… always… always be good… a good girl… never bad again!”

  Xan chuckled above her. “Girl, if the day ever comes that you’re never bad again, I’ll know I’ve come up with a cure for every stubborn girl in the universe.”

  Normally, a response like that would have fired her up. Not today. Today, at that moment, she had no fight left in her. She just wanted mercy.

  And then, incredibly, his hand stopped. She didn’t realize it initially, her screams continuing, until she heard his smooth, deep voice. “Hey, hey. It’s over. Blythe, it’s over.”

  The pounding and pulsing, the ache and burn, crashed over her in waves, convincing her that his hand was still slapping rhythmically against her bottom.

  Once released from her bonds, Blythe pushed at his thighs, trying to rise.

  “Oh no. You stay here. I want you to reflect on this punishment. This is a memorable one, girl. It is meant to stay with you for a lifetime. A discipline session such as this is one that is supposed to change your personality, making an indelible mark on you, reinforcing how good girls behave.” The cool skin of his palms upon her buttocks were like a balm to her, easing her ache. “Be still.”

  She sniffled, swiping at the tears and snot on her face, doing her best to clean herself. As he’d just said, this discipline session would keep a guard over her mouth. She’d watch every word she said. No longer would she impulsively blurt out sarcasm.

  She would remember this day. The pain, and the tears. The disappointment on his face.

  * * *

  Xan caressed her hot little backside, the skin mottled and red. She’d never received a punishment like this from him before. He’d used a switch or belt on her, yes, but the tawse was a serious implement. And although he’d used it on her before, he’d always kept the strokes lighter, knowing the effects if its leather tongues could be harsh indeed.

  But his girl, his woman, would not be allowed to talk to him in such a defiant manner. His woman would be sweet and respectful. He liked her wit and sarcasm, but not when it was directed at him in a demeaning way. What she did today had to be nipped in the bud. He’d not let her become a nagging bitch. There were too many of his friends that had fallen prey to this type of behavior after children, and he’d always sworn that he wouldn’t let that blight take over his house.

  Her breathing had become measured again, her chest not constricting and spasming as often. He dipped his
finger between her thighs, sliding it into her hot, slippery sex. Her spicy scent wafted up to his nostrils and her sticky juices coated his fingers.

  Her hips shifted and she moaned softly.

  Later.

  “Come on, girl. Up.” He helped her to sit on his lap, and she gasped when her ass slid across the fabric of his pants. But when she felt his hard cock on her thigh, she jumped in surprise. But with a mischievous grin, she rubbed her right buttock along his length.

  “Nuh-uh, girl. Not now. We’ll talk a bit, and then you’re going up for a nap.”

  As if not wanting to push her luck, she nodded silently. He’d half expected her to argue about Ganza watching Tegan, but she must have decided that obeying would be in her best interest.

  He tucked her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her. “You’ll not speak to me in that manner again, Blythe. Clear?”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m sorry.”

  “I know you are. But respect is imperative. You’ll not call me names or swear at me.”

  She nodded.

  “If you’re upset or tired, I understand that. But you won’t take it out on me, and I won’t take my exhaustion out on you either. We’ll communicate and work it out.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “It’s all good. We’ll work things out one incident at a time.” He had a hair brush he kept in the table for either punishment, or times like this when he wanted to soothe and spoil his girl. Grabbing the brush, he smiled to himself when Blythe stiffened, waiting silently to see what end of her body it would be used on. It was good to keep her on edge, a little unsure of what he’d do next. He didn’t want her to fear him, but he didn’t mind a little trepidation in his little human either. A healthy fear was good, sometimes.

  He stroked the brush through her long, red tresses, easing the curls into soft ringlets. The golden highlights shimmered from the lamp nearby and he couldn’t help but note that the color was similar to his Luesluno.

  If someone had told him a year ago that he’d have a woman —a slave and captive from Terra— in his house as a mate, he would have laughed. Or that he would have a small infant girl that was made with that same slave’s tissue and his sperm — the same tiny infant sleeping peacefully in her crib upstairs at that very moment — he would have called them a liar.

  And if he had known that he could fall this fast, and this hopelessly, in love with a human, he would have laughed. He had been the consummate bachelor, married to his career. And yet, here he was not only in love, but hopelessly in love.

  His slave, ward, and captive had become more than those titles. She had become his pet, his partner, his lover.

  And the mother of his child.

  The mystery surrounding her, the cultural differences, and the stark divergence in their physical sizes had him fascinated, daily. Her small, petite stature had his protective nature rising to the surface, and now the teeny, tiny newborn with his dark curls and his mother’s complexion had stolen his heart.

  He swore he’d do anything in his power to guard his family, keeping them safe and healthy. But more than that, he wanted them happy. Content, secure, and loved. He wanted both of them to go to sleep knowing, without any doubt, that they were loved and cherished.

  Blythe’s breathing had settled, her breathing slow and steady. Her eyes fluttered lightly. He kissed them gently, nuzzling at the drying tear tracks upon her cheeks. He’d been harsh tonight, but it was because he wanted their union to be one based on love.

  And true love was only evidenced by respect and honor.

  She would see, in time, that even though his expectations were high and he was a harsh master most days, he also would love her just as deeply, caring for her needs and desires more than anyone ever had before. He had waited a long time for true love, and he wouldn’t let it slip through their fingers by letting roots of anger and disrespect creep in. He’d guard and protect their relationship from any influence that may destroy it.

  He tilted her back into his arms, her breasts jostling on her chest, the large brown areolas and nipples calling to him like a siren’s song. He leaned forward, sucking a nipple tightly, the milk flowing quickly into his mouth.

  In her sleep, she murmured, “Is it time for your feeding, Master?”

  He didn’t answer, but sucked even harder, the force of her milk pouring to the back of his throat in response.

  “Mmmm, it feels good.” Her eyes were still closed, but a faint smile curved her lips. “Don’t… stop.”

  Yes, life had become more than he could have ever imagined.

  And, in his mind, he had the very best girls on Pra’kir.

  The End

  Other Books by Megan Michaels

  The Alien’s Mark (Captives of Pra’kir)

  Divine Domination Series:

  Her Priest

  Cardinal Sinner

  The Service & Submission Series:

  Finding Submission

  Mastering Inga

  My Russian Master

  Colorado Christmas

  Service and Submission Boxed Set

  The Widow Wagon Series:

  Book One: Second Chances

  Book Two: More Than She Bargained For

  Book Three: Cinch Your Saddle

  Widow Wagon Boxed Set (to be released)

  The Desiring The Forbidden Series:

  Desiring The Forbidden

  His Sassy Girl

  Desiring the Forbidden Boxed Set

  Published By Stormy Night Publications

  What Naughty Little Girls Get

  The Little Princess Cruise

  From The Author

  Megan Michaels writes BDSM Erotic Romance that is either Contemporary or Western Historical. Her books delve into Domestic Discipline, Dominance/submission, and all of them have elements of BDSM. Megan Michaels' books are a sensual exploration into erotic romance. She loves a strong, alpha male who spanks, and if that man is a Dom or a cowboy... well then the perfect situation has been created.

  Thank you for buying this book. Authors love reviews and if you can take the time to leave a review for this book it would be greatly appreciated. Please feel free to friend request me on Facebook and Twitter!

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