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[Zandian Mast 01.0] His Human Slave

Page 13

by Renee Rose


  One hundred percent aroused.

  He unclipped her from the bench and fastened her wrists behind her back. With a tug, he pulled her to sit on his lap on the sleeping platform, facing away from him. He pinched both her nipples. She threw herself back against him, arching and writhing. He spread her knees so wide they hooked over his, leaving her pussy exposed and vulnerable. With a snap of his wrist, he spanked her wet pussy, his fingers slapping again and again to punish her.

  Climax approaching.

  “Oh! Oh please. Oh wait—stop—Zander! No… Oh no, I’m going to do it again—”

  He shoved his pants down and lifted her onto his cock. She slid on easily, her passageway swollen and wet, more than ready for him. He lifted and lowered her over his cock, the end of the butt plug connecting with his pelvis and shoving it in deeper on each instroke.

  Lamira babbled something—nonsense mostly, her gasps and cries one long string of sound.

  He moved her just the way he wanted her—grinding over his cock, her back arching and breasts thrusting in the air. He bounced her up and down until he couldn’t hold back any longer. Yanking her in, he climaxed, shooting his load. It only took one tap of his finger against her clitoris and his little human came, too, her muscles squeezing his cock, massaging it, milking it for his seed.

  Climax achieved.

  Since she was still being punished, he didn’t cuddle her afterward, but lifted her up and placed her on the sleepdisk, with her ankles strung up in the air, holding her hips aloft.

  Ninety-five percent aroused.

  Still? Well, so was he.

  Somehow, punishment had turned into a glorious game. Yes, he was still annoyed with her, but not enough not to enjoy her luscious body. She looked unbelievably hot strung up like that. He adjusted one of her ankles so her legs were spread wide. The view of her pussy was spectacular. Swollen, glossy, with traces of rainbow colors from his seed. He brought his hand down between her legs and spanked her swollen folds again.

  ~.~

  She couldn’t help it. She climaxed again, the moment he slapped her sex.

  Of course, there was no hiding it, with his cuff giving off constant data on the state of her vagina.

  He slapped her clenching pussy again. “What did I say about orgasming without my cock inside you?”

  She couldn’t muster any intelligible reply. “Ugn...uh…”

  “I will let it slide, since my seed is already planted.”

  She couldn’t decide if he was playing with her or was genuinely still angry. The line had grown blurry during sex. She feared he had come to understand his dominance aroused her. She hadn’t yet admitted it to herself, even, but his damn arm cuff didn’t lie.

  “You will remain in this position for thirty minutes.” He set a timer on his cuff and turned away.

  She sighed. The position left her still impossibly aroused, despite the multiple orgasms. She prayed no one entered the chamber to see her like that.

  Zander worked at his platform while she tried to cool her engines.

  The ankle cuffs began to cut into her flesh and her feet went numb. She shifted around, but there was little she could do in the ridiculous position.

  Zander turned his violet gaze on her. He didn’t seem angry.

  “Please, my lord. My feet have lost all feeling.”

  He stood and sauntered over, grasping one of her feet. She gasped as pins and needles shot through when he touched it. With a quick command, he released the clips on her ankles and scooped her into his arms, carrying her to his sitting platform where he sank back down with her cradled in his lap.

  This. Yes. Stars, yes. She loved when he held her afterward. She rubbed her feet together, tensing at the sensation returning to them.

  He looked down at her and tweaked one nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “I like when you look at me like that.”

  She hardly dared breathe. Was Zander actually paying her a compliment? “How do I look?” She spoke softly, not wishing to jar Zander out of his unusual tenderness.

  He smirked. “Like I’m your entire universe.”

  “Well,” she said lightly, “you are my master.”

  His eyes narrowed as if trying to determine if she was being sarcastic. For once, she wasn’t. She’d meant what she said. He was her master. In the short time she’d been with him, he had become her entire world. Bending to his will meant avoiding punishment, and even earning comfort. So, yes, he had become her entire universe.

  “Lamira, you must tell me the truth now.”

  All the post-climactic languor fled her body in a single moment. She stiffened in his arms, attempting to sit upright. He didn’t allow it. “Don’t lie again.”

  She blinked up at him. She wanted to obey. But how could she? It would mean her death.

  “Are you really from an agrifarm?”

  “Yes, my lord. I swear it.” She met his unbelieving eyes.

  How could she prove her innocence?

  “I can show you the plants I’ve started in your great hall,” she offered. She’d been dying to show him her work but had made herself wait until more had sprouted.

  He lifted her to her feet, his lips pursed. “All right. Show me.”

  She turned big pleading eyes on him. “Take the plug out? Please, my lord?” It still burned, heating her pelvis from the inside out.

  “No.” His voice had the hard edge to it. He had not forgiven her, no matter what gentleness he’d shown after sex.

  “You’re still angry.”

  He nodded. “Yes. I don’t see the point of keeping a slave I cannot trust.”

  She stopped on her way to put on her clothes, a chill running through her. “Zander,” she breathed, her vision blurring.

  Would he send her back? The thought of returning to the agrifarm, even to her mother, left her empty. That wasn’t where she belonged. The crystals had spoken to her. She’d seen the baby.

  That’s right, she’d seen the baby. He wouldn’t send her away. She’d prove her innocence to him. She yanked on her clothing and drew herself up, her head held high.

  ~.~

  Lamira chattered on about her plants, using the Latin Earth names for the little sprouts. The glow on her face nearly matched the sunlight pouring in through the crystals, shining through her coppery hair in shimmering waves.

  She walked stiffly, the plug in her ass plainly causing her discomfort, the flush on her face as clear a readout as the one on his cuff.

  He liked her aroused. Maybe he’d keep her that way all day until she confessed her secret. It was hard to believe she was a spy. She wasn’t good enough at it. But why wouldn’t she tell him how she knew about Gunt stealing crystals?

  “So you see? Soon we’ll have fresh food grown here. The plants love your crystal light—it’s amazing how quickly the seedlings have grown. Three times as fast as they would’ve on the agrifarm. I only wish I had more space. I’d love to have an entire room of raised beds to work with.”

  He steeled himself against her beauty, against the way his lips fought to reward her excitement with a smile. The more he was around her, the more discombobulated he became. This human was trouble for him.

  He gripped her elbow. “It’s time for your ass-vecking.”

  Her green eyes flew wide and the color drained from her face. “But, my lord…”

  “Unless you’re ready to tell me how you knew about Gunt?”

  Her expression clouded, worry gathering on her brow.

  “Let’s go.” He tugged her back down the hall, the thought of taking her ass putting a spring into his step.

  Perhaps their impasse did not have to be unpleasant. He certainly enjoyed punishing his little slave.

  He led her to his chamber and propelled her into the washroom. “Clothes off.”

  Like an obedient breeder, she stripped, folding her clothes neatly and stacking them in a pile on the counter. She seemed eager to appease him. He could get used to having her around. And that was cause fo
r concern. Because, right now, he should be focused on winning the battle for Zandia.

  “Bend over the counter.” He spun her around and pushed her torso down on the cool stone surface. Daneth had given him equipment to clean her bowels, and he pulled it out now, attaching one end of the hose to the water line from the sink and filling the water bag.

  The handle of the oiled plug nested between her pretty cheeks, giving evidence to her humiliation. She’d be getting an even larger dose now. He eased the plug out of her hole, smiling at her gasp.

  “Reach back and hold your cheeks open for me.”

  “Why?”

  He slapped her ass. “Really, little slave? You’re going to question me?”

  “No, my lord,” she mumbled. He met her eyes in the mirror and saw anguished surrender.

  Beautiful.

  “Open them wide.”

  “Yes, my lord.” She reached back and peeled her lovely cheeks wide, exposing the delicate pink rosebud of her anus.

  He rubbed a lubricant—not the ginger kind this time—on the top of the nozzle and inserted it into her anus.

  Her gasp of alarm made his cock hard.

  He opened the clamp and let the water fill her bowels.

  She moaned. “Please, my lord. What are you doing? Please don’t…”

  He liked her begging.

  The bag emptied.

  “I’m cleaning you out for me. I need you to hold that water until I say you can let it go.”

  “I can’t,” she moaned. “Please, my lord.”

  “Tell me how you knew about Gunt.”

  Silence.

  “Are you a spy?”

  “No, no, no, no,” she breathed, her self-control clearly challenged by holding the water inside her. “Not a spy. It was a lucky guess.”

  “Don’t insult me with your lies.”

  “Please,” she whined. “I can’t hold it any longer.”

  “Two more minutes.”

  “I can’t…”

  “You will.”

  He smelled the salty scent of her tears. For a moment, he regretted pushing her, but then he remembered her lies.

  She shifted from foot to foot, her anus visibly clenching in spasms around the tube still inserted in her ass. At last, he removed it. “Empty yourself for your ass-vecking.” He left her alone in the washroom to finish up.

  She emerged, subdued and pale.

  “On the sleeping platform, on your knees and forearms. Ass in the air.”

  She crawled up to the platform and assumed the position.

  “Spread your knees wider.”

  She obeyed. The lips of her sex parted wide, swollen and wet.

  He ran his finger lightly over her slit, smiling when her entire body shuddered. “What happens to slaves who lie to their masters?”

  “I-I don’t know,” she whispered.

  He rubbed his finger over her clitoris, feeling it swell and harden under his fingertip.

  “They get their asses vecked. Hard. Is that what you want?”

  He spread her glossy juices up to her clit.

  She made an unintelligible sound.

  “Bad slave.” He released his cock from his trousers and rubbed lubricant over it. “You have displeased your master.”

  “Forgive me,” she panted, sounding breathless.

  He fit a large vibrating dildo in her cunt and flicked it on.

  She gave a startled, wanton cry.

  “Hold still,” he commanded and pushed the head of his cock against her anus, waiting until the tight ring of muscle relaxed and allowed him entry.

  Her moans sounded alarmed.

  Despite his purpose in punishing her, he experienced a rush of affection. To take his large Zandian cock in her tight ass asked a lot. Her humbled position endeared her to him. From his point of view, her bottom splayed wide, her cunt dripping, her ass taking his cock like a good slave, she was vecking gorgeous. He slid in and out, loving the tightness.

  “Bad little slave,” he murmured, but his tone sounded affectionate. He couldn’t help it—he loved taking her like this, loved owning her so completely.

  He turned up the speed on the vibrating wand in her twat and pumped harder.

  She wailed beneath him, her cries rising to a keening pitch. “Please, master, please. I’m sorry. I’ll be a good slave. I swear I’ll be a good slave.”

  His balls tightened. He shot his load, wasting his seed in her ass. It had been worth it. Euphoric victory coursed through his veins.

  He eased out of his slave’s ass and turned off the vibrator. “You didn’t climax,” he murmured, gathering Lamira up in his arms.

  “No, but it feels like I did.” Her lips barely moved. Her body lay limp and spent in his arms. A sheen of sweat gave her skin a glow.

  Beautiful.

  He wanted to give her the world. He couldn’t wait for her mother to arrive.

  He wished they were not at an impasse over her lies.

  ~.~

  Zander punished her every planet rotation. During the days, he put her in the cage and left. She had a feeling he was training for war—his plans to take back his planet filtered into her consciousness daily. Since the crystal bath, her knowings had come more often, more clearly. She saw an image of her mother, dressed in luxurious robes, and rejoiced that she was still alive and would know freedom.

  At night, he asked her if she was ready to tell him the truth. When she refused, he punished her. The first night he paddled her with a horrible wooden board. She sobbed and begged for his mercy, but, as usual, her traitorous body somehow became aroused at the punishment, ready for him to breed the moment the spanking ended.

  The next night, he went easy on her, perhaps taking pity on her still-swollen ass. He spanked her with his hand and forced her to suck his cock until he came down her throat.

  The third night, he used a terrible cane on her. That night, she’d wept so bitterly at the pain he had not bred her, instead he’d taken her into his arms on his sleepdisk, stroking her back and hair until she drifted off to sleep.

  The fourth night, he used only his hand again.

  She couldn’t hate him. He took such care with her, even when he punished. It was odd, but while she feared the pain he liked to inflict, she wasn’t afraid of him. Not the way she had been afraid of the guards at the agrifarm. Not even the way she was wary of Daneth, though he’d never hurt her.

  She woke the following morning with her wrists chained over her head, Zander’s hot hands roaming over her breasts.

  She arched into them, shivers of excitement rolling through her. Her pussy, which was nearly perpetually wet since Zander had begun breeding her, heated and began to pulse.

  “Little Lamira. You’re such a bad slave.”

  No, I’m not. I’m your good slave.

  Where did that come from? At what point had she started desiring his approval? Wanting to please him? Right from the beginning, it seemed.

  He straddled her and brought his thumb and forefinger to one of her nipples, pinching it. “When are you going to stop lying to me?”

  God, would he ever let it go?

  Her eyes slid sideways, away from his amethyst gaze.

  Slap. His palm swatted the side of her breast. She arched and yanked against her binding.

  “Do I need to spank your breasts?” He slapped its twin.

  “Oh! No…” She writhed beneath him, uselessly trying to twist away from him, to hide herself.

  Despite the pain and what was worse—the fear at this new, untried form of punishment—moisture seeped onto her inner thigh. Her wanton pussy was ready for whatever her large master had to offer.

  He slapped her breast one more time but then climbed off, his gaze decidedly cool. “No, I think I’ll try something else today.”

  A fresh ripple of fear went through her and she shivered. “Master?”

  “I will deny you my cock. You may have been reluctant to take it at first, but now I think you’ve grown to enjoy it...per
haps it is too much of a reward.”

  She ought to be relieved the punishment was so mild, but he was right—denying her his cock left her yearning. Empty. Rejected.

  Shifting his tone into the quiet command he used on the electronics, he said, “Release cuffs.”

  She sat up, whimpering at the pain of the blood rushing fully into her arms.

  Zander looked over his shoulder at her on his way to the washroom and she swore she saw a wrinkle of concern on his forehead. He hesitated but then shook his head and entered the washroom.

  She flopped back on the sleepdisk and sighed. Living with her master presented a new torture every day. Not the kind she’d expected. No, the emotional kind. Longing and angst. Need, desire...and love? It made her stomach clench to think the word, but, yes, she’d certainly become emotionally attached. Bonded. Maybe it was love, maybe it wasn’t. She really didn’t know about these things.

  Her stomach rumbled. She got up, dressed, and tapped on the washroom door. “Master? May I go to the kitchen to eat?”

  “Yes.” His answer was short and clipped. “But return in twenty minutes. I’m leaving for the United Galaxies meeting this morning, and you must stay in your cage while I’m gone.

  Ugh. A long day alone in the cage. She’d hated the last few days. Servants brought her food and liquid and let her out for a walk and to use the washroom, but she hated staying cooped up. The only way she’d kept from going insane was paying attention to her claircognizance. Something she never used to do.

  She walked down to the kitchen. “Good morning, Barr,” she chirped. Seeing the friendly chef always cheered her.

  He rewarded her with a broad smile. “Lamira. Guess what I made for you this morning?” He set a plate with a beautiful breakfast pie in front of her. “It’s called quiche. Have you ever heard of it? It’s a human recipe I researched.”

  She blinked back tears. “You researched human recipes?”

  “Yes, from old Earth. I know you probably wouldn’t know them, but I thought perhaps they’d be especially good for your body.” He blushed after mentioning her body.

  She smiled. “That was so thoughtful of you. What’s in it?”

 

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