by Renee Rose
“Done.” The male punched something into his wristband and a beep sounded on the director’s handheld communication device.
The director glanced at it and smiled. “When do you want her?”
The male gripped her upper arm. “I’ll take her now.” He bowed. “It was nice doing business with you.”
She swung around to meet him, terror screaming in her chest. “I can’t—wait—”
The male ignored her, pressing a device to the back of her neck.
She felt a sting before everything went black.
2
She awoke on her back, naked in a well-lit clinic of some kind. The same male bent over her, taking blood from her arm.
“Ow.” She attempted to move her limb but found her wrists and ankles strapped to the table. “Where am I? What are you doing?” Her tongue felt too thick in her mouth.
As before, he ignored her. He injected her blood into a test tube and shook it with a solution then inserted it into a machine and watched the readouts.
When he returned, he put on a pair of protective gloves. He had five fingers, like a human. He wore a lab coat with a name tag that read DANETH.
She licked her dry mouth. “Daneth?”
He gazed directly at her for the first time. “It is not your place to address me, slave.”
It wasn’t her place. Right. This must be the “house training” the director had referred to. Though she’d been a slave all her life, other than suffering hard work and poor conditions, she’d escaped the subtleties of groveling indoor slaves were taught. “Are you my master?” She needed to get clear on what was going on.
“No. Your master is Lord Zander, Prince of the Zandians.”
Prince of the Zandians. But Zandia had been taken over by the Finn solar cycles ago. So if this man was a ruler, he was king of nothing. Just another wealthy statesman living in exile in Ocrea territory.
“His name is Lord Zander. What, was he named after his planet?”
Daneth brought the pads of his fingers to her right breast, massaging in small circles around the nipple then squeezing it, hard.
She gasped and jerked.
He repeated the action on the other side, checking the readout on his armband, as if following a protocol. With two fingers in her mouth, he pried open her jaws, adjusting the light from his wrist cuff to shine inside.
“Lift your tongue.”
It was stupid, but she refused to obey. She’d inherited her father’s rebellious mind, she supposed. Knowing he died trying to free his daughters from this exact situation obligated her to resist.
He nudged her tongue up with his finger. She attempted to snap her teeth closed, but he was far too strong, and she only succeeded in straining the muscles of her jaw and throat. Her rebellion did not seem to bother him.
He traveled down the length of her body, palpating every inch. Her nudity felt shocking after a lifetime of baggy clothes. Someone had washed her and even applied a shimmery powder over her skin. Her hair sprawled in soft waves around her head. It, too, had been cleaned and smelled sweet, like citrus blossoms. Violation at being touched so intimately—especially when she’d been unconscious—coursed through her. She had to get out of here. To escape and—
Veck. She didn’t even know where “here” was.
She thought they were finished when he unclipped her ankle cuffs, but he only readjusted them, placing her feet in stirrups to lift and spread her legs.
Her bare sex lay open to him for his examination. Her belly quivered, every muscle in her body tense.
“This shouldn’t hurt.” His tone was matter-of-fact. With his thumbs, he pried open the outer lips of her sex and spread them wide. He prodded her anatomy with a light touch, pulling back the hood of her clitoris as if to make sure it was there.
She whimpered when he shoved two fingers inside her and used his other hand on the outside to massage her inner wall.
“Does it hurt?” He sounded curious, rather than concerned.
“It’s not pleasant,” she growled through gritted teeth.
He raised his eyebrows, as if the news surprised him. “Hmm.” He removed his fingers from her channel and spread her ass cheeks with his thumb and forefinger.
She lifted her bottom in the air, squeezing her back hole against his examination.
He pushed her pelvis back down and pinned it in place with one hand, wiggling a finger into her anus with the other.
She pinched her lips closed on a moan and held her breath, squeezing her eyes closed and willing it to be over. She could get through this. It was a physical examination.
As long as they didn’t find out her real secret, she would survive.
~.~
Zander exited the battleship, unbuckling his helmet. Training for war had been a part-time job for him since he was fifteen solar cycles old. The rest of his time was a nightmare of campaigning for support to wage war on the Finn, and keeping up with business to fund the war.
A crowd of servants and advisors stood on the landing deck, waiting to brief him on various aspects of business or the household.
“I have her,” Daneth said, dropping in to walk beside him as he strode into the pod.
Veck. The breeder. His new slave.
“Where? Here?”
“In my lab.”
“Fine. Bring her to my chamber.” Ugh. The thought of breeding with another species turned his stomach, but he’d do what he had to do. He entered his chamber and washed up.
When he emerged from the washroom, Daneth had brought the slave. She stood fully nude, except for the wrist, ankle, and neck cuffs he would use to keep her chained up. She crossed her cuffed wrists in front of her sex. Daneth led her by a chain attached to the ring on her collar.
Her jaw was thrust forward, mouth set in an angry slash.
Excrement. No, Daneth couldn’t have chosen a meek, submissive human, trained to serve males as a human slave should. This one would be a pain in his ass.
He scanned her body. Fragile. Small. Weak.
How could this human’s genes be the perfect mix with his own?
But the sight of her bare nipples, jutted out in stiff points, her flat belly and long, shapely legs did stir his cock and stiffen his horns. Daneth had been right; without the dirt and grime, she was beautiful. Exquisite, even.
But what need did he have for beautiful children? He wasn’t bad-looking himself. He needed cunning warriors.
He folded his arms across his chest. “She appears stubborn.”
Daneth looked at the data readout on his armband. “Actually, elevated pulse would indicate she’s afraid.”
She darted a glance at Daneth, as if frightened to hear he was monitoring her vital statistics.
“Then why doesn’t she look afraid?”
“Perhaps she wishes to hide it, my lord. Humans often attempt to mask their emotions.”
Humans. He had no time for their deceptive ways. “They lie, yes. But it doesn’t make sense. If she showed me fear, I would take pity on her. Insolence, I will beat out of her.”
The stubborn mask fell away for a moment. Ah. There was the fear. So she had tried to hide it. Why? It made no sense. And she continued, even after he’d said how he would deal with her attitude.
He reached for her, and she shrank back, attempted to dodge his touch. Daneth yanked her chain forward too harshly, and she stumbled against Zander, her fragile form soft against his body, her skin baby smooth under his hands.
He gripped her upper arms to immobilize her and studied her face. Her eyes were moss-green with yellow starbursts around the pupils. He’d never seen eyes like them before. All of his people’s eyes were the same color—brown, rimmed in violet, a complement to their purple-hued skin.
“Are you afraid, slave?”
Her little tongue darted out to moisten her lips, which had cracked. “Yes, my lord.”
Finally, the truth. “Good. Learn to please me and we will get along well enough.”
“
Why am I here?” she croaked.
He glanced at Daneth. “You told her nothing?”
Daneth shrugged. “I thought it best to minimize my interaction with her, as she will be yours to mold and shape.”
Stars, he didn’t have any interest in molding or shaping any being, much less a human slave. But he supposed Daneth’s caution made sense. He would be her master; he would have to be the one to train her to his liking.
He heaved an exasperated sigh. “You’re here for breeding.”
Her eyes flew wide and she stopped breathing for a moment. Real alarm flitted across her face. Her throat worked to swallow. “I’m not a breeder.”
Her lack of deference when she spoke annoyed him. He was used to being treated with the utmost respect by all those around him. “The choice is not yours,” he snapped.
Daneth picked up his irritation. “She may require some correction, my lord, but I’m certain she will learn quickly. She was not house-trained by the Ocretions, so her manners require refinement.” Of course he wanted this to work, since it was his idea.
Zander released her and crossed his arms once more. “What makes you so certain?”
“Her brain activity is very high for a human. She’s intelligent. We already know she has excellent genes.”
“I’m not a breeder,” she repeated. “I wasn’t trained for sex. I’m a virgin.”
A virgin. Veck. That was the last thing he needed. He already had concerns about his cock fitting into a being so small.
He waved an impatient hand. “Cease the prattle. Do not speak unless you are invited to do so.”
She shifted in agitation. “There’s been some kind of mistake.”
He definitely didn’t have time for this. He jerked his horns toward the cage Daneth had installed in his room for her. “Put her in the cage. I’ll breed her later.”
At the mention of a cage, she spun and tried to make a dash for the door. He didn’t know where she thought she’d go, considering he had guards at every door in the pod, and the only exit was in an airship.
He caught her around the waist and yanked her back against his body. “Enough,” he growled in her ear. Looking to Daneth, he asked, “How do they recommend punishing her?”
“A beating with the flat of your hand on her buttocks should suffice for minor infractions, my lord.”
He sat on his sleepdisk and flipped her face down across his thighs, bringing his hand down on her bare bottom.
She inhaled sharply and tightened her cheeks.
He didn’t use his full strength, even though it was just his open hand. She was female, and human—he didn’t want to cause her real harm, only to quell the rebellion in her. He slapped her upturned backside over and over again, watching as her pale skin turned an enchanting shade of pink.
She squirmed and kicked her legs until he caught her ankles and fastened the cuff clips together. That impeded the kicking.
He resumed the steady beating, wondering how much it would take until she broke. She held her breath then let it out in little gasps and cries. Each time they came out, they sounded more plaintive, but she hadn’t yet begun to weep. Humans were emotional creatures, or so he’d heard. Far more emotional than his species. They cried when wounded.
He stopped paddling her and wrapped a fist in her hair to lift her head. Her face was red, but her eyes were dry.
“She’s not crying,” he said to Daneth. It came out like an accusation. Well, this whole scheme was Daneth’s doing, so he should prevent it from being so difficult. “Don’t they cry when they’re in pain?”
“Yes, well, her vitals indicate stress.”
“It is not sufficient. She should be crying.”
“There are harsher methods of punishment, but they may cause permanent damage or excessive stress. We want her healthy for breeding.”
“Research it further. This isn’t working.”
“Note the color of her buttocks.”
His cock stirred at the mention of her rather attractive posterior. As if he hadn’t noticed it already. Her skin had turned a mottled red where he’d disciplined her, and the flesh had already swollen.
“It worked, my lord. She is just stubborn.”
He pulled her roughly to stand, out of patience with her deceit, which made no logical sense. Why wouldn’t she simply cry and concede to him if the punishment had worked? “Put her in the cage.”
Daneth stepped back, as if too squeamish to lift her. He supposed there was some reluctance on his advisor’s part to get intimate with the human, if she belonged to Zander.
“Never mind,” he muttered. “I’ll do it.” He scooped her up. She was lighter than he expected. And softer. She smelled sweet, like some kind of flower, but not in an overpowering way. His horns stiffened and turned. His blood warmed. All right, apparently he could be attracted to a human.
The truth was, he had little experience with females of any species. He’d been evacuated from his planet when he was a youth, and most of his species had been destroyed in the takeover. He’d experimented a bit with other species as he came into manhood, but Seke had advised him he scattered his energy in doing so—he should keep it for his training. He’d put off breeding until now.
But his slave needed reminding of her place. He’d have time enough to breed her later, if his irritation with her faded. He hefted her through the door of the cage, slamming the door shut behind her.
Unable to move much with both her wrists and ankles bound, she curled up on her side, with her back to him. He saw trembling in her buttocks and thighs. Yes, Daneth was right. The punishment must have had its effect. Too bad she hadn’t learned from it.
“I’ll leave you, my lord, unless you require anything else?”
“More information on discipline. That is all.”
Daneth bowed and left the room.
He flicked on his hologram and checked the daily reports on his trades.
A sniff sounded from the cage.
~.~
Her bottom was on fire. The Zandian prince’s hand had fallen like a paddle—stinging her flesh as well as leaving a deeper hurt below the surface—the kind that would leave lasting soreness. She’d kept her emotions at bay during the punishment, but now that it was over, tears leaked down her nose, dripped onto the finely woven carpet in her cage.
Yes, her cage had the nicest rug she’d ever seen. Well, apart from the one on Zander’s floor. The cage itself was polished hardwood—light in color. Not a wood from Earth—she was familiar with all of those from her work in agriculture. No, this was a very hard wood, sanded and polished until it gleamed. Zander’s entire space pod spoke of wealth and opulence. She’d never seen such finery—not even in the holograms she’d glimpsed over the guards’ shoulders back on the agrifarm. The rooms and corridors were shaped by domed walls, which were textured and colored in rich, happy shades of yellow, red, and purple. Prince Zander’s egg-shaped bed, draped in rich-hued silks, hovered a foot off the floor without any visible means of support. So did her cage. A skylight in the ceiling had a fist-sized crystal embedded in it, which seemed to provide all the natural light the chamber needed. Zander may have lost his planet—or, rather, his father had, if she knew her history—but he still lived like a king.
“Lamira.”
It was the first time anyone had called her by her name since she’d been taken from the agrifarm.
The prince’s voice was deep and resonant. Commanding. As masculine as a voice got. It reached inside her and made something flutter in her belly.
She ignored the sensation and him.
He spun the cage so she faced him.
She attempted to roll to her back to change sides, but not before he’d seen her face.
“Now you’re crying.”
His powers of observation were overwhelming.
“Why?”
She completed her roll to the other side, away from him.
He spun the cage back so she faced him once more. “Open cage,” h
e commanded, and the voice-activated lock clicked. To her, he said, “Come out.”
She didn’t move.
His tone went sharp. “Do not anger me a second time, Lamira.”
Well, apparently he’d already cowed her completely because his words went straight to her chest, creating a sudden tightening and sending her instantly into motion. She hated how easily he’d mastered her. One stupid spanking and she rushed to please him.
She sniffed back the tears and attempted to push up to her hands and knees—no easy feat with her wrists and ankles bound.
“Release wrist cuffs. Release ankle cuffs,” he commanded. They sprang apart but not off.
She backed out of the cage, toward the door, not sure how she would get out until his large hands grasped her waist and lifted her easily to the floor.
Where to look... Certainly not at the prince—her master—although his presence was more than commanding. He stood almost seven feet tall with thick, corded muscles across his chest and arms.
Moisture gathered between her legs.
He looked more warrior than prince. No, he was all king. A warrior king. Earlier, she’d stared at him boldly. Now she kept her eyes lowered, trained at his bare feet. They were no different from hers, except larger and with the brown-purple skin tone of the Zandians. She glanced at her own toes. They were cleaner than they’d ever been before. Even her toenails had been buffed to a glossy shine. How long had she been out?
The prince cupped her chin and lifted her face. His touch was gentler than she expected. She still couldn’t meet his gaze, choosing instead to stare at his thick neck and the part of his bare chest visible beneath his loose, finely woven white shirt. Her fingers itched to touch his skin, to find out if it was as smooth as it appeared. What a strange idea. She’d never thought about touching a male in her life. In fact, she’d avoided males as best she could. This one had her completely discombobulated.
Was his chest hairless? Did he have hair anywhere other than his head? Zander, Daneth, and the guards she’d seen outside all wore their hair shorn close to their skulls. Perhaps their horns got too hot otherwise.