Most of all, she liked that Mary was smart. Arguably smarter than either she or Peyton; perhaps smarter than she and Peyton put together. She had been working on her residency at a hospital before being abducted at twenty-six years old. She had an extremely calm demeanor that had helped Ellie and Peyton get back into their right minds more than once. She also didn’t mind playing the referee between the two of them.
And they definitely needed a referee. Although she and Peyton had become unlikely friends, especially considering that he had spanked her within a few hours of meeting her, the two of them butted heads more often than she had with any of her family back at home, which was saying something.
“Well,” Mary said, “the girls need to stop thinking it’s a holiday. It’s not. Jazeel has more guests than ever right now, and we’re going to be swamped down here.”
“What time is it, anyway?” Peyton asked, looking around for a clock.
“Lose track of time, did we?” Ellie replied snarkily, fluttering her lashes at him. He rolled his eyes at her, but she felt she needed to continue, putting her hand against her hip. “Just make sure you’re not caught, okay? And I don’t even want to remind you of what would happen if you stick your thing in the wrong hole. I just don’t think you’d be the Peyton we’ve all come to tolerate once you’ve been neutered.”
Mary elbowed her teasingly in the rib. “Trust me,” she said with a laugh. “His balls are constantly in the forefront of both of our minds.”
“Oh, I have no doubt,” Ellie sighed, shaking her head and unable to keep from smirking. Deep down, she felt bad for them. It wasn’t easy to have a relationship in the palace, and virginity checks happened at random. The only way the two could consummate their relationship was with anal, although they looked for every opportunity to do that. Mary didn’t seem to mind. But Ellie was fully aware that Peyton had been smitten with Mary since first resting eyes on her, and if he had had his druthers, he’d have already married her and they’d be awaiting kid number one.
Ellie had never expected her life to end up with a white-picket fence and two-and-a-half kids, so it was a loss that she didn’t have to mourn over. She knew that for Peyton and Mary, on the other hand, they knew what they were missing.
They could barely even hope that they would ever get to ‘breed’ together in the future. Jazeel’s future bride would be there within days, which Ellie assumed would end the virginal state of most women there, because Lady Galaal’s prime was a well-known human breeding champion. He would probably get his pick, and Peyton wouldn’t be able to do much about it. Nobody liked to talk about it, most of all the three of them, but there had been a cloud looming over any happiness they had had since the last time Lady Galaal had visited and Ellie had overheard a lot of her plans for her future ‘pets.’
“So I heard that they’re bringing the Swarii prisoners up to Jazeel,” Ellie said as she and Mary put together Jazeel’s breakfast tray. “What’s the point in that?”
Peyton grabbed a piece of ham and toast and began to take grand bites. “He wants information on other bases,” Peyton replied simply, as if that should have been obvious. “This is his M.O. First he asks nicely for information, and then he’ll bribe them, and then he’ll torture them. And then, you know, he’ll kill them. He doesn’t have many prisoners—just a small handful that couldn’t evacuate and didn’t get killed in the raids. If we’re lucky, none of them will do something that will piss Jazeel off. I don’t like cleaning up bodies.”
“Well, he’s in a good mood so far,” Mary reminded, picking up the tray and sliding it over Ellie’s outstretched arms. Over the last year, she had gotten used to toting around the massive tray, despite it weighing easily twenty-five pounds when it was loaded. “So let’s do everything we can to keep that going. It’s all we can do.” She walked to the door to the kitchens to open it for Ellie.
“Don’t you miss mornings where the people around you have at least some hope of it being a good day?” Ellie joked flatly, raising her eyebrow as she scooted out the doorway.
“You want me to give you my Curly impression?” Peyton asked, already grinning, which meant he was going to say something ridiculous next. He immediately burst into song as he pushed himself off of the counter. “Oh, what a beautiful morning… Oh, what a beautiful day…”
Both girls laughed, mostly because he was actually singing well. “You’re going to make me drop this, doofus,” Ellie said, turning back into the hallway with her tray.
She could still hear him finish the line, “I have a beautiful feeling… Everything’s goin’ my way.” From the squealing from Mary, Ellie was pretty sure that he had picked her up and started kissing her. Ellie shook her head at them—they were too cute for space.
After a couple of turns, she came across the front doors of Jazeel’s chambers. A Frian guard standing outside grudgingly moved to open the doors for her, only because she had complained about him not helping her in the past to Jazeel, who seemed to enjoy not having his coffee spilt outside the chamber doors every morning.
The doors opened, and she walked in. She hadn’t expected the scene in front of her somehow, even though she had talked to Peyton about the prisoners and she had been told that Jazeel would be meeting with the Swarii. Ellie had never seen a Swarii before—she hadn’t even seen pictures of then. She had known that she reminded Jazeel of a Swarii girl, but that hadn’t signified much. After all, there were moments where Peyton reminded her of an alley cat that used to live outside of her family’s garage, but that didn’t mean that Peyton was orange and fluffy.
The Swarii looked like… people. Overly large people, for certain, but definitely like humans. Their eyes were extremely bright colored, just like hers. Even if they were different colored, like brown, it was a bright, milky brown. Two of the prisoners had eyes just like her own. She just stood, staring at them, feeling unable to even breathe from her surprise.
YOU’RE A FOOL, COMMANDER MASTERSON, Jazeel was saying in shal’ta, which surprised her. She had never heard him talk to anyone except other Frians in shal’ta, let alone a whole other species. Yet it must have been possible for the prisoners to understand, judging by the look of absolute hatred on their faces as Jazeel droned on. YOUR RACE IS AT ITS END. WHY DRAG OUT THE DYING PROCESS? WHY DON’T YOU ALL JUST TRY TO LIVE AS COMFORTABLY AND AS QUIETLY AS YOU CAN? Jazeel stopped communicating to look straight at Ellie. He broke into a wider, sharper smile. “Oh, my dearest pet. Do not be afraid of these creatures. They cannot hurt you,” he assured, beckoning her to approach him by crooking his finger at her.
The Swarii commander turned around and looked straight at her when she stepped closer to the small handful of prisoners who were kneeling on the floor with their arms shackled behind their backs. She and the commander stared at each other and she found herself blushing uneasily as he looked into her eyes with surprise.
He was so strikingly handsome her brain went blank.
“Pet,” Jazeel said, a little more firmly. “Come.”
Feeling more ashamed than ever at being ordered around like a dog in front of these witnesses, she forced herself to turn to Jazeel and step up toward his throne.
* * *
Ellie forced herself not to shake as she began to pour and serve Jazeel’s coffee to him.
ENTRANCING, ISN’T SHE? Jazeel said in shal’ta to the group of prisoners. SHE IS HUMAN, BUT I BOUGHT HER SINCE SHE LOOKS SO CLOSE TO ONE OF YOUR FEMALES. IT SOOTHES ME TO IMAGINE ONE OF YOUR KIND BEING OBEDIENT. When she finished fixing his coffee, Ellie knelt before his chair and served it to him, careful to keep her eyes off of the Swarii. Knowing that they were looking at her was embarrassing enough. Jazeel took the coffee and just placed it onto the table next to his throne.
She glanced up and noticed Jazeel gazing at her hardened nipples, which were peeking through the fabric of her flowy dress. “Sit on my lap,” he told her, patting his knee with his gray, scaly hand.
She closed her eyes for a moment, wanting to sit
on Jazeel’s lap even less than usual. It was always embarrassing, but it was a million times worse in front of company, and that was compounded multiple times in front of this particular company. She stood and glanced toward the commander, who was still making a study of her, and gave him an embarrassed glance as she turned around and let Jazeel easily lift her onto his lap.
In the next moments, Jazeel positioned himself so that she was straddling his large leg. Now she could really take a good look at the prisoners.
They were great walls of men, all of slightly different heights, averaging at about seven feet tall. One of them was surely Jazeel’s height. They were bulky, muscular, and would serve as a mean defensive line for any American football team. They were dirty, and some were bleeding from cuts on their bodies and faces, but their chiseled features were very expressive. They were definitely not human, though. Besides their god-like height, none of them had seemed to feel the urge to blink over the last minute, and the commander’s hair was a dark chestnut brown that seemed like it had a purplish sheen in the room’s lamplight.
I KNOW YOU HAVE THE INFORMATION I NEED, COMMANDER, Jazeel continued in shal’ta. She felt like he was an evil villain in a Bond movie and she was supposed to play the part of the pet cat. MUST I REALLY TAKE IT FROM YOU BY FORCE? THERE ARE MORE PLEASANT WAYS…
I COULD TELL YOU WHERE TO SHOVE THOSE MORE PLEASANT WAYS, LIZARD! the commander hissed back in his own shal’ta. It was slightly different than Jazeel’s, she noted. It sounded almost human-like, while Jazeel’s was a reptilian hiss.
Jazeel merely nodded at the guard who was hovering over the commander with one of his taser rods. The guard shoved the rod forward and gave the commander a loud, frying zap. What looked like lightning shot out of the end of the rod and hit the commander squarely between his shoulders, and he grimaced and hunched forward, making a sharp sucking noise with his teeth.
Ellie, completely unused to seeing anyone tortured in front of her, jumped in her seat and flailed a little bit in place. She tried to step back with her feet, which weren’t even touching the floor. Jazeel looped his arm firmly around her waist, and his free hand came down quickly and slapped one of her exposed thighs, hard. She squeaked from the pain and then ground her teeth together and forced herself to still.
Grumbling slightly, Jazeel untied the back of her dress, which had closed at the back of her neck, and then plucked the fabric down to her waist, ignoring her soft whines of protest. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to forget that she was now topless in front of strangers, her bare breasts completely on display. When she opened them, she saw the commander was still wheezing with his forehead nearly resting against the marble floor. The other four prisoners, however, were watching carefully as Jazeel rubbed his hand across her breasts, bringing their attention, apparently, right to her pink, unprotected nipples.
She could barely stand for this, but the slap she had received on her thigh was still stinging and threatening to bruise already. She wasn’t used to this level of humiliation, but she was used to Jazeel playing and toying with her nipples after a year of being his pet. In that time, she had endured his fingers exploring every inch of her body. It was impossible, however, to ignore a small handful of men ogling her.
Even worse, having others in the room who Jazeel knew could understand shal’ta was causing him to censor his own thoughts for once. Now he was only using his ability to communicate with them, leaving his inner thoughts a secret to her. She had no idea what to expect at this point. All that she could do was wait and hope nothing more horrible would happen to her.
Her body was beginning to shake now, partially from the cold air in the room, but partially because she was more nervous than she’d ever been in her life.
“Ah, looking at my pet, are you?” Jazeel chuckled to them. “See what I mean? These little beasts are all so similar to yourselves. Stupid as bricks, but they do have something that might appeal to you… you could use them for your own sick pleasures. They have the same breasts…” Jazeel’s fingers pinched her exposed nipple extra-hard. Her body jerked and she gave a sharp chirp of protest. “…The same wet, delicious little cunnies…” he said, his hand drifting lower and landing on her still-covered mound. “I cannot use them to their full extent myself, unfortunately, but your kind certainly could. They are extremely obedient, making them excellent little bed-warmers.” He smiled widely as he added, “I imagine they would be a nice respite for your natural needs, especially since your female population has dwindled so much as of late…”
The Swarii growled collectively, but the commander shoved up from the floor and launched himself violently at Jazeel.
Horrified by his quick movement, Ellie let out a shrill scream. But once again, the commander was knocked to the floor just below their feet by the guard’s rod.
She felt Jazeel’s chest heave a heavy laugh from under her. “I can see that’s still a tender issue.”
“I swear to God, I will tear you apart!” the commander growled from the floor.
Jazeel was still grinning as he motioned for the guard nearest to them to hand him a blaster. He shrugged coldly. “Very well. Don’t say I didn’t try to ask nicely.”
Ellie heard the blaster heat up with a whirr. She gasped; one thing she hadn’t prepared herself for was seeing such a handsome man get his face blown off two feet away from her. “No!” she screamed, and just as Jazeel pulled the trigger she reached out with both hands and pushed the gun toward the floor. The shot left a large scorch mark upon the marble.
A very silent moment passed. It was possible that nobody was as surprised about what had happened as Ellie. But the next thing she knew, she and the gun were both thrown violently onto the floor. “You insolent little brat!” Jazeel shouted at her.
He reached down, grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her up on her toes. With his own hand, he peppered a volley of sharp blows upon her too-thinly covered bottom. The pain was discombobulating, since he was using so much strength in each blow, and she could barely believe what she had done, or what she could do to prevent further assault.
She was now hideously aware of how light Peyton had been with her a year ago. Since then, when Peyton had spanked her in front of Jazeel, he would do it as one might do for a circus crowd, hamming up the show as much as possible, but would still make her bottom a bright red. Later she would often whine at him and stomp her feet about her mistreatment and assure Peyton that he had ‘taken the show a little too seriously!’
Little had she known that Peyton hadn’t been taking it seriously whatsoever. He had become a diligent artist at the craft of making her bottom look like it was in more pain than it was. He had never left bruises, even on that first day, which had been the hardest of all. Even when Peyton had occasionally given her a motivational slap on the behind, it had been more the noise that made her jump than the pain.
This, however, was quite the opposite. Jazeel, who was easily eight feet tall, was lanky, but he was strong. Strong enough to pick her up without any strain, and he was always picking her up as if she were a little Chihuahua. She, in turn, had always pretended to like it. But she never thought of him before as ‘scarily strong,’ even though he very much was, and it felt like he was using all that strength in his arm to beat her.
If she was told beforehand that this sort of thing was going to happen, she would have been worried about the embarrassment of being spanked while standing up and trying to escape the whole time. She would have been mortified at the notion of what it would be like to be spanked in front of such an audience.
Strange enough, now that the spanking was actually happening, she couldn’t care less about her audience. She was too focused on trying to avoid Jazeel’s hand, which was easily painting her bottom a black-and-blueish color underneath her yellow, flowing dress skirt.
Apparently, Jazeel wasn’t feeling satisfied by hitting the thin fabric of her skirt. “Take off the rest of your clothing,” he demanded of her, beginning to unbuckle his b
elt with resolve.
“I’m sorry, my lord! Violence frightens me!” she whimpered miserably, turning her pain-stricken face up to him. “I couldn’t bear it! I didn’t mean to anger you! Have mercy on my stupidity!” She got to her knees and grabbed at his pant leg. “But show your mercy upon their stupidity, too! They don’t know yet the great leader that you are! Please!” She was certain that she had witnessed a similar buttering-up technique in an old movie back at home, and if memory had served her right, it had worked.
Just as it worked now! Jazeel stopped taking off his belt and sighed with frustration. “See how you’ve frightened my pet?” he blamed the commander, whose mouth was hanging wide open. If it was possible, the Swarii commander seemed even more disturbed by witnessing her beating than she had been when watching a gun pointed at his face.
Jazeel looked down at Ellie, who turned away from the rest of the room and broke into a frightened sob as she wrung her hands over his pant leg. After huffing with frustration for a moment, Jazeel finally petted her head and then reached down to pick her up and put her on his hip as if she were a frightened animal. “Take them away for now,” he told the guards, waving at the prisoners. “Let them think upon my offer for a bit.”
The room cleared quickly, leaving only Jazeel and Ellie in the chamber. He put her back down onto the floor and then turned to his chair and his breakfast. “Prime!” he shouted, taking a seat.
Ellie knelt submissively at Jazeel’s feet, feeling awkward and empty. She pressed her forehead against his knee, trying her best to appear remorseful, as she felt her bottom throb with pain.
Peyton was quick to answer, as usual. “My lord?” Peyton asked with a bow of his head.
“This floor needs to be repaired,” Jazeel said with a wave toward the scorched piece of marble in front of him. “See to it that it’s done within the next day or so. Also, my little pet here needs a reminder of her place. Bring me the plug.”
His Untamed Mate (Swarii Mates Book 1) Page 5