by Renee Rose
As he fingered it, his head whipped around, eyes narrowed.
Veck. It must be warm, still. Or was a light on?
“Show last.”
The hologram of her sister sprang up. He stretched it, looking from Lily’s face back to hers. “Who is this? A sister?”
She wrung her fingers and nodded. “Yes,” she managed to say. “I’ve never met her. She was taken from my parents for the sex trade when she was three.”
Zander winced. “I’m sorry.” His voice held a note of shock that made her believe him.
“Back.”
The image of her mother hovered. He spun it around. “Is this your mother?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Back.”
The first hologram she’d watched sprang up, right where it had left off, the disembodied voice explaining all the critical data points of what was probably the worst day in Zander’s life.
She cringed.
“Back.”
The hologram switched to a list of transactions—one of Zander’s business accounting records.
“Close.”
Her legs trembled when he swiveled his dark-eyed gaze on her. For a long, nerve-wracking moment, he said nothing, simply gazed at her speculatively. “What were you doing?”
It wasn’t only her legs trembling. Her whole body shook. She didn’t like Zander’s dissatisfaction. She opened her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. “I’m sorry.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Right. I’m sorry wasn’t exactly an answer to his question, was it? For once, she tried for the truth. “I just wanted to understand you better.”
He cocked an eyebrow. Once more, he made her suffer with a moment of silence. At last, he said, “Do not touch my things without permission.”
She held her breath and waited to hear what the punishment would be. Her poor bottom couldn’t take another thrashing, but the cage was almost worse.
He scrolled back to the Zandian invasion and zoomed in. His brow furrowed. “I’ve never seen this footage.” His voice sounded hollow. She sensed the trauma beneath the words.
An image of him as a teenager, being hustled out to an airship flashed in her mind.
“How did you get away?”
He swallowed and rotated the rolling pictures, narrowing in on what must be the palace—his former home. “Master Seke evacuated the palace. He brought most of the servants...and me.”
“The servants who are still here?”
“Yes.”
She reached out to touch his arm. “I’m sure you wanted to stay and fight.”
He turned his amethyst eyes on her, wide with wonder. “Exactly. My parents stayed to fight—both of them. I wanted to stay and fight, too, but they made me go with Seke—” He stopped speaking, his voice choked. “Everyone left on Zandia died that day.”
“How many ships got away?”
He shook his head. “Only mine. The rest of the Zandians still alive today were away from the planet for the invasion. Lium and Erick. They were both offplanet.”
“You’re planning to take it back.” She shouldn’t have spoken. That was her claircognizance feeding her information she shouldn’t know.
But Zander answered. “I will win it back.” His jaw tightened with determination. “Release cuffs.” The locks on her binds snapped open and the cuffs dropped to the floor. He jerked his head toward the washroom. “Go and wash. I have things to do.”
She dipped into a curtsy, her heart aching for him. It was a huge responsibility he carried on his shoulders— the liberation of his people, the rightful return of his planet. No wonder he didn’t have time for her.
She scooted off to the washroom and stepped into the washtube. The glorious washtube, which she’d come to love. She’d wash three times a day if she thought Zander would allow it. She stood under the warm spray and closed her eyes, allowing it to clean her. The water felt too warm on her still-sore bottom, but she didn’t mind. Standing in that tube felt luxurious, indulgent, decadent. She held her breath as the water filled to the top then drained away and the warm air dried her.
She stepped out and combed her hair.
When she emerged from the washroom, Zander snapped her cuffs back in place. “Get in your cage. Today is the pod’s recharge day.”
She stared at him blankly.
“Once every ten planet rotations, Zandians must bathe in the light and eat a meal to maintain strength. On visitor’s day, we open the light bath for outside Zandians. Today is the day those living here recharge. I’m going to the light bath now.”
“Can’t I come?” It wasn’t only desperation at not being left in the cage—well, perhaps it was. But she also wanted to see the light baths and how they worked. She remembered the vision she’d had of the rainbow light and the joy spreading through her.
His dark gaze was unfathomable. Once more he stared at her a long time without speaking. Although she’d never been one to beg, she adopted a hopeful, expectant look.
He sighed and lifted his arm with the gold band. “Call Daneth.” When Daneth’s head popped up, he asked, “Is it safe for Lamira to enter the light bath?”
Daneth blinked a few times.
She stepped behind Zander to hide her nudity and peeked around his shoulder.
“I honestly cannot say for certain, my lord. I would think yes, so long as she wore protective eyewear. I do not know how well human eyes would withstand the light.”
“Thank you.” He hit something on the band and Daneth disappeared. “Put some clothes on.”
She beamed at him, hurrying to dress. “Thank you, my lord,” she said breathlessly.
“Let’s go.” He pressed his palm to the door.
“My lord.” She ran to catch up with him and was startled when he took her hand in his as they walked swiftly down the corridor. She noticed Gunt had been replaced with a different guard. “You do not have to put me in the cage every time you leave your chamber. If you trust me enough to walk about the pod on my own, why not to stay in a room I cannot exit, which is guarded at all times?”
“Cage time is good for you.” His deep voice sounded gruff, but rather than frighten her, it reverberated right in her core.
“Why?” she demanded.
“Research says once cage-trained, humans love them. It becomes a safe space. I like it because it reminds you of your place. Makes you happy to see me when I return.”
Her pussy moistened and something slithered in her belly. Why? Surely she didn’t like being trained like a pet by Zander?
He stepped up to a room she hadn’t been in before and pressed his hand to the seal. It slid open. “Close your eyes.”
She gasped when they stepped inside. A gigantic crystal had been installed in the ceiling, sending rainbow shafts of light all around the dome-shaped room.
“I said, close your eyes,” Zander snapped.
She covered them with her palm and allowed him to lead her to the center of the room, where she’d seen narrow flat beds arranged in a circular pattern to match the shape of the room.
“Take off your clothes.”
She pulled off her clothing and peeked to see him shucking his clothes as well. He guided her into a bed and she heard him settle in one next to her.
“Here,” he said, dropping a piece of clothing over her face. His shirt, she thought. It smelled of his clean, masculine scent—a scent she’d come to love.
She breathed in deeply.
“Keep your face covered, just in case. I’d feel terrible if it got burned.”
He’d feel terrible. So he must care about her. Or at least he took responsibility for her. Were they the same thing? Not necessarily.
She lay under the great crystal and paid attention to the sensations dancing across her skin. There was a tickling—no, a vibration. A humming of energy that made the hairs on her arms stand up. As the room grew quiet, a whisper became apparent.
King Zander will restore us to our planet. He needs
you. Pay attention to all knowing.
She sat bolt upright and opened her eyes.
Zander’s lids flew open and he glared at her. He pointed to the door, “Out.”
She snatched up the shirt and lay back down, covering her face again. “No, no. I’ll be good. I’m sorry.”
Her heart pounded against her ribs. No one was in the room but the two of them. Even as her rational brain struggled to answer the riddle, she already knew—the crystal had spoken to her. The vecking crystal.
Something about the experience made her weep. There was a lightness, a benevolence projecting from the crystal. Love, in its purest form. She felt grateful to be in its presence, grateful to be spoken to, to be needed by Zander.
Except...no. She couldn’t tell Zander. Clearly he hadn’t heard anything. Zandians, like humans, weren’t supposed to just “know” things. Or “hear” things. Or “see” things. And while it may not be a trait punishable by death for a Zandian, it sure as hell was for a human.
So how would she help Zander with her knowing— the knowing that had never done her a bit of good in her life—when she couldn’t reveal how she knew things?
Chapter Eight
“Gunt has stolen over thirty crystals from the pod in the last three solar cycles.” Seke rubbed his forehead, his mouth turned down in disgust. “He sells them to Ocretions for a tidy sum. I’m sorry I didn’t catch it.”
“Where is he now?”
“He’s in a holding cell.”
Zander sighed. One of the downfalls of being part of a nearly extinct species was that he couldn’t ever cut any being loose. He’d love to banish Gunt, but he didn’t want to lose or waste any Zandian life.
“Leave him there. What else did you find? How did my human know?”
Zeke shook his head. “There’s no other recording of the two of them, but I told you that before. There’s no recording of her seeing him take them—they were all taken and sold before she got here.”
Tension ran up Zander’s shoulders to his neck. Something tight in his stomach made him feel sick. “But how could she know?” His voice rasped a little. “She was an agri-slave before she came here.”
Zandian moons was she not a slave? Was she some kind of plant—perhaps part of the Finns’ plot to kill him? But that would mean Daneth was part of it. Or someone had tampered with his program…
Seke’s eyes narrowed, and he knew the older man had the same thoughts. He was the one who had taught Zander the art of war and strategy, after all. “I don’t know.”
Zander stood up. “I’ll question her.”
Turmoil swirled through his insides as he stalked back to his chamber where he’d left Lamira out of her cage. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.
He opened the door and let it close behind him. Lamira scrambled off the bed to stand before him, naked, as he required. Her beauty angered him now. Was she an elaborate ploy to get close to him? If so, to what end? And how dangerous could she be? He could snap her neck with the flick of a hand.
He stared at her for a moment and watched her fidget. “How did you know about Gunt and the crystals?”
Genuine fear flashed across her face—her pupils narrowed, breath shortened. He smelled it coming from her pores.
It chilled him. So she did have something to hide.
She shook her head quickly and took a step back. “I didn’t. It was a guess, that’s all. Was I right?”
“Come here.”
Something twitched in her cheek. She stepped closer to him.
He picked her up by the armpits and lifted her until they came eye to eye. “Do. Not. Lie to me.” He kept his voice even and cold.
A shiver ran through her. It brought him some small satisfaction. Her reactions were so transparent. She couldn’t be a spy. At least, not a trained agent. She was a terrible liar and while her emotions confused him, she wore them on the outside. Surely a spy—even a human one—would have more skill.
“Zander, please. I swear—I don’t know anything.”
“You knew about Gunt. How did you?”
“He didn’t seem trustworthy, that’s all.”
Zander shook his head. “No. You told me he was stealing crystals. That’s a specific accusation, and Master Seke has proven it to be true. So how did you know?”
His little slave looked beautiful with tears swimming in her eyes, lips trembling, a wide-eyed pleading look on her face, her naked body vulnerable and available to him. “I didn’t know,” she insisted, not quite meeting his eyes.
He dropped her back to her feet. “I promised you a whipping the next time you lied.”
She blanched, her little hands reaching back to cover her still-marked ass. He should punish her again, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Still, anger coursed through his body, much like it had the night before. Once more, this little human had completely thrown off his equilibrium.
“I punished you yesterday when you didn’t deserve it, so I won’t strap you again. But I am very angry with you. Kneel at my feet and do not speak—I do not wish to hear your voice.”
He turned away from her, taking a seat at his work platform, but his mind was on nothing but the docile, delicate creature at his feet. When had she become so submissive? Had he already tamed her in a short week? How?
She sniffed, and he smelled the scent of her salty tears.
“Why are you crying? I haven’t caused you pain. Yet.”
“I’m not crying.”
He grabbed her hair and yanked her head back. “You continue to lie when evidence of the truth is right here on your face?” He flicked his tongue to catch the salty drop.
She jerked her head away. “Stupid master. I’m not”—she huffed out a sigh—“the words weren’t intended to deceive.”
He let the stupid master part slide, only because her face crinkled with distress. “Oh, right, they are what you wish were true. If you do not wish to cry, do not. Is it so hard for you?”
She jerked away. “Yes.”
He picked her up and arranged her on his lap, gripping her face to turn it toward him. “Why do you cry?”
The tears continued to swim in her eyes. “I don’t like displeasing you.”
His eyebrows slammed down. “If you do not like displeasing me, then don’t,” he thundered, the deep tones of his voice reverberating against the walls.
She flinched, shrinking back from him.
He remembered that he’d truly frightened her the last time. But shouldn’t a slave be afraid of her master when she disobeys?
“Tell me the truth.”
Again real fear flashed in her eyes. What was she hiding?
“Come here.” He pulled her up by her arm and marched her to the spanking bench Daneth had provided. With a shove, he positioned her over it and snapped her cuffs to lock her in place.
“Zander...Zander, please. I didn’t know. I don’t know anything.”
“Stop the lies.” He slapped her upturned ass, and she shrieked. After rooting through the box of implements, he found the butt plug and ginger oil to make it burn. He coated the plug in the oil and pressed the tip against her little rosette. “I won’t whip you, but you deserve to feel my dissatisfaction, slave.”
She squeezed her butt cheeks together to keep him out.
“Open up, or I will change my mind about spanking you.”
“Zander…” Her voice shook.
His armband flashed her readout: Forty percent aroused.
“Now.”
One cheek relaxed then the other. He rubbed the bulbous head of the butt plug over her anus and waited for the sphincter muscles to relax. The moment they did, he pushed the object inside, stretching her slowly.
“No,” she cried out. “Ah!”
Seventy percent aroused.
“Bad slave.” He eased the plug in farther, and she squealed at the largest part. She took the entire plug into her cavity, her anus closing around the narrow neck, leaving the steel handle protruding.
&nbs
p; Ninety-five percent aroused.
He pumped it a few times, the sounds of alarm she made turning his cock rock hard. She tightened around the plug.
Climax achieved.
“Did you come?” he snapped. “Bad slave. You do not orgasm without my cock inside you—without my seed inside you.” He spanked her with his hand, the plug jostling as she bucked.
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.