by Ivy Barrett
Kept for Their Use
By
Ivy Barrett
Copyright © 2019 by Stormy Night Publications and Ivy Barrett
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
Barrett, Ivy
Kept for Their Use
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Images by Dreamstime/Sdecoret, iStock/4x6, and Shutterstock/FXQuadro
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Additional Books in the Ventori Masters Series
More Stormy Night Books by Ivy Barrett
Ivy Barrett Links
Chapter One
Torn between boredom and irritation, Zilrath Nomani walked across the small office and gazed out the only window. Sector 412 of Earth, an area once known as Fort Hood, Texas, had been flat and semi-arid before the Skarilian attacks. Now it was a scorched wasteland filled with bitter memories. Ground transportation was nonexistent, and this small cluster of buildings was the only structure still standing on the sprawling military base. The logistical challenges and seclusion made the complex perfect for Protectorate Headquarters. Those with spaceships and molecular transportation devices did not need roads.
Enraged Ventori warriors founded the Protectorate after the destruction of their home world. They vowed to defend all victims of the Skarilians and eventually end their reign of terror. So the Protectorate raced from star system to star system like the intergalactic cavalry. Their noble goals brought them to Earth eighteen months ago when the Skarilians turned their sights on the human race. The Ventori successfully stopped the devastating attacks, but two-thirds of the planet already lay in ruin.
Zilrath’s planet, Tavor, had been the Skarilians’ target six months ago. His people had been slaughtered or forced to evacuate the only world they’d ever known. As with Earth, the attacks had been unprovoked and senseless, so their plight naturally brought them to the attention of the Protectorate. Many of the refugees were brought to Earth because it was the current location of the Ventori Defenders, aka the Protectorate.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Zilrath turned from the window and glanced around the room. There wasn’t much to it, a rudimentary desk and several mismatched chairs. The unimpressive space was Chancellor Savator’s private office, but the head of the Protectorate didn’t spend much time in this small, unwelcoming space. He had too much to do, and too many demanding on his attention.
The door, which Zilrath had left partway open, was shoved wide and Kellan Styre strode inside. The tall, brawny Ventori looked around with lazy interest before his penetrating gaze landed on Zilrath. “Bron summoned me.”
“Me as well.” Though it was doubtful Zilrath would ever be comfortable enough with the chancellor to refer to him by his first name. “Do you know what this is regarding? I was only told to be here.”
“Me too.” The Ventori shrugged and sat in one of the chairs arranged to face the desk. Like most Ventori males, Kellan had long dark hair streaked with a lighter color. His contrasting strands were sapphire blue, though the most common color was red. Similar streaks of blue marbled his dark eyes, causing them to shimmer when the light hit them just right. He wore the formfitting uniform required of all defenders. His was a dark grayish blue and the intricate design on the upper sleeve indicated his position as commander of the Elizian, the newest and most technologically advanced ship in the Ventori fleet. He had been Chancellor Savator’s first officer for years, and the two were still close. “Have things settled down at Fort Benning?” Kellan asked after a long pause.
“Not really,” Zilrath admitted. “Most of the refugees don’t want to be there. They simply have nowhere else to go.”
Zilrath, along with thousands of other Tavorian evacuees, had come to Earth during, or shortly after, the Skarilian attacks. Family units and groups of orphans had been assigned to settlements scattered all over the U.S., while single males and unclaimed females were divided between Fort Benning in Georgia and Camp Accord in the mountains of Colorado. As the only Tavorian on the High Command, it was Zilrath’s responsibility to ensure that his people had a voice in decisions affecting them. Not an easy task given the vast differences between Tavorian customs and Protectorate philosophies.
Tavorians were separatists. They avoided conflicts, only becoming aggressive when directly attacked. Tragically, their dedication to peace had only made their annihilation easier for the ruthless Skarilians.
The Ventori, on the other hand, were crusaders. Their inherent need to protect and challenge allowed them to stand up to the Skarilians while most other races ran and hid, or surrendered without a fight. Ventori Defenders were aggressive, argumentative, and highly sexual. A fact more human females were learning with each passing day.
“Will it help if you separate the males and females like Bron wanted to do all along?” It was hard to miss the challenge in Kellan’s deep tone.
Zilrath moved closer to the desk but remained standing. He was tired of having others tower over him. Among Tavorians, he was considered tall, but the Ventori were all monstrously big and muscle-bound. “The single males would turn their frustration on humans instead of each other if we deprived them of female companionship. It’s better to deal with their petty squabbles than the sorts of infractions that would arise if we moved all the females to Camp Accord.”
“Have they determined whether or not we can breed with your females?”
The question was so rude that it shocked Zilrath. No Tavorian female would even consider forming a mating bond with anyone other than a strong, capable Tavorian male. “Genetic compatibility is irrelevant. Tavorian blood must be kept pure. It is our custom. Our law.”
“Yeah, well, customs and laws have a way of evolving whenever the Skarilians are involved.” Kellan crossed his legs, resting one booted ankle on the opposite knee. “What about your brother? Didn’t he bond with a human?”
Familiar resentment tensed Zilrath’s shoulders and gripped his stomach, but the tightness didn’t last. It was hard to remain angry with someone who had just saved thousands of lives. “Azra is a hybrid. His blood is already tainted.”
The Ventori just nodded and shifted his gaze to the window.
Since coming to Earth, the Ventori focus had shifted from pursuing the Skarilians to finding genetically compatible mates. They wanted to establish a settlement or settlements, and start rebuilding their lives. The new direction had grown out of the unexpected discovery that some human females were compatible with Ventori males, an opportunity that had never presented itself before in all their extensive travels.
Tavorian physiology was different from Ventori. Tavorian scientists had been trying for generations to explain when and why mating instincts were triggered. There didn’t seem to be a specific genetic pattern, blood protein, or chemical combination. It was visceral, instinctual. Either a couple was deeply attracted to each other, or they were not. Casual sex was enjoyable, but nothing like a true mating. Mat
es blended bodies, minds, and spirits, and only mating instincts could facilitate such a bond. To Zilrath’s knowledge, a human female had never triggered mating instincts in a Tavorian male. Besides, with so few Tavorians left, it was more important than ever to keep Tavorian bloodlines pure.
Chancellor Bronson Savator entered a few minutes later, followed by a human female. As always the chancellor appeared massive and mean, his green-streaked hair cut short, the marbling in his eyes flashing with green intensity.
Zilrath shifted his focus to the human female. Any female was more interesting than the brutish Ventori. Pale yellow hair just brushed her shoulders. Both the simple style and light color were very different from Tavorian females. She glanced at him and offered a polite smile, though the warmth never reached her green-gold eyes. Many would consider her pretty, but she was too thin and timid for Zilrath’s tastes. He dismissed her as inconsequential and returned his attention to the chancellor.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Savator said as he sat down behind his desk.
The female dragged one of the chairs around the desk, so she sat more or less at the chancellor’s side. How strange. Was she more comfortable with Savator or was she attempting to make a statement with the position?
Feeling awkward with everyone else sitting, Zilrath reluctantly lowered himself onto the chair beside Kellan. The arrangement was slightly adversarial, but Savator didn’t seem to notice.
“This is Celeste Mortenson.” The chancellor motioned toward the female. “She’s special envoy representing the U.S. Secretary of Alien Affairs, and she has been assigned to oversee the integration of those Ventori who have applied for mates and the Tavorian refugees.”
“What the hells is that supposed to mean?” Kellan looked from the chancellor to the female and back, his rugged features tense and disapproving. “Maybe we don’t want to be integrated.”
“It has come to our attention that the human females are expected to make all the adjustments,” Celeste told him. “You have chosen to remain on Earth and bond with human females. That means these females have certain rights. We’re concerned that these rights are being disregarded by the—”
“You said ‘our attention’ and ‘we are concerned.’ Who the fuck are you talking about?” Kellan’s reaction was amusing the chancellor. He sat back and let his friend harass the envoy, hands lightly resting on the padded arms of his desk chair.
“The Department of Alien Affairs in general and my boss in particular.” She folded her hands in her lap, attempting to hide their trembling. “Several of the mates have sent messages, as well as many concerned onlookers.”
“Ventori customs are very different from human social norms,” the chancellor told her, his amusement beginning to fade. “Expectations are clearly outlined for each potential mate. And if they are unable to adjust to the reality of being courted by a Ventori pod, there is always the thirty-day clause.”
“I’m not familiar with that phrase,” Zilrath said. He wasn’t even sure why he was here. This appeared to be a conflict between human females and Ventori males.
“Once courting begins, each potential mate has thirty days to determine whether or not she’ll allow her males to claim her,” the chancellor told Zilrath, then turned back to the envoy as he said, “The females go into this with their eyes wide open. Forcing anyone to bond results in a corrupted link. Even the attempt can be harmful to all. Our mates are willing participants in everything we do.”
“I’m not implying that the females are forced.” She spoke carefully, clearly searching for each word. “But they are being... coerced into situations they later regret. That is the dynamic I’m here to mitigate.”
“I think a little Ventori discipline would do you a world of good.” The blue in Kellan’s eyes flashed as he glared at her.
She squared her shoulders and scooted to the edge of her seat. “That’s the exact attitude we need to address. Corporal punishment is not the answer to every disagreement. Human females have ideas and opinions that are being completely disregarded by their mates. They are being bullied by a bizarre combination of intimidation and... well, pleasure.”
Before Kellan could return fire, Zilrath said, “This is all fascinating, but what does it have to do with me? Tavorians have no interest in mating with humans, nor do we favor corporal punishment.”
“Our concerns with Tavorians are different, but just as pressing,” Celeste told him, her voice a bit firmer. “Communities all over the U.S. have welcomed Tavorian refugees, many at great cost to themselves. For the most part, the refugees have responded with hostility and disdain.”
Zilrath tensed, unwilling to hear his people maligned by this pale female. “Tavorians do not associate with other races. We—”
“The refugees have no trouble accepting human hospitality. They eat our food and sleep in our homes, but they can’t be bothered to speak with their host families or assist with anything that must be done to maintain their upkeep. I’m sorry, Minister Nomani, but that’s just plain rude.”
The chancellor chuckled. “Starting to see why so many human females end up face-down over our laps?”
Zilrath and Kellan laughed, but Celeste glared at each in turn. “This isn’t funny. We have serious concerns that need to be addressed and a suggestion that must be given proper consideration. The Department of Alien Affairs is tired of being inundated with complaints. Compromises must be reached, or we will recommend discontinuation of this alliance.”
That snapped the chancellor to attention. “Are you threatening me?”
“Of course not.” But she raised her chin and looked straight into his eyes. “I’m simply asking for the same respect you would offer any other diplomat. I am here at the request of the Secretary of Alien Affairs. In case you’re unaware, she is a member of the president’s cabinet. That’s very much like your High Command.”
“Our mates are not abused,” the chancellor insisted. “If you want me to give the issue any more attention than that, you will need to present specific complaints by specific females. I will not respond to sweeping generalities.”
“Fine.” She harrumphed. “Let’s move on to the suggestion.”
“Fine.” His tone was even tighter than hers.
“The nature of our alliance is a social exchange. You provide protection, and we provide females willing to become carnal companions or mates.”
“I’m aware of the nature of our alliance,” the chancellor grumbled. “I initiated it.”
“Sorry. I’ll get right to the point. It’s our opinion that a series of unions between a Ventori, a Tavorian, and a human would be highly beneficial in progressing our ultimate goal of cultural integration.” Her expressive gaze shifted between the three males as she explained. “If all three species are going to share this planet, we must learn to get along.”
“What sort of union?” Zilrath wanted to know.
She hesitated. Her momentary spark of spirit deflated as quickly as it appeared. “The sort your half-brother formed. Their union incorporated a human, a Ventori, a Partonese, and a Tavorian. It’s quite remarkable, and we would like to encourage more of the same.”
“Azra’s pod consists of hybrids,” Zilrath told her. “They’re all half breeds, mongrels, estenratta. No pureblood Tavorian will tolerate such a union.” He shuddered and looked away. “It’s unthinkable.”
“Then contact another country immediately.” Her voice was suddenly steely and filled with authority. “The United States will not shelter and feed a race of xenophobic bigots.”
Incensed and shocked beyond words, he pushed to his feet and turned toward the door, not sparing the shrew another glance.
“Sit down,” the chancellor snapped. “Ms. Mortenson has a valid point.”
Zilrath returned to his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, staring back at the chancellor in silent defiance. His family was powerful and respected. No. His family had been powerful and respected. Now they were desper
ate refugees, as were all Tavorians.
“Your people are guests of the Protectorate,” the chancellor reminded him, “so your behavior reflects on me. This office has also received complaints about the attitude and behavior of the refugees. Your planet is a bombed-out ruin, just like mine. Compromises are unavoidable if you’re going to stay on Earth. Every member of the Protectorate has made significant changes since the destruction of Ventor. Now your people must do the same.”
Zilrath drew a long, deep breath in through his nose, then slowly let it out. “I’ll inform our single males of your suggestions and see if anyone is willing to volunteer. But I will not force such an unorthodox relationship on any of our young males.”
“I’ve always tried to lead by example,” the chancellor said. “I asked you each here because I believe a union involving you both and a human female will have the most impact. Zilrath, all the refugees look to you for advice and support. Kellan, the rank and file soldiers idolize you. Besides, Kellan applied for a mate, so his genetic matches have already been identified and prioritized. All you two need to decide is which one of his potential mates pleases you both.”
Kellan looked as horrified as Zilrath felt. “You want me to form a pod with him?”
The utter distaste in the Ventori’s tone made Zilrath snarl. “Unacceptable.”
For some reason, that made the chancellor laugh. “Oh, you two are adorable.” Then his features locked into an unrelenting expression. “I wasn’t asking for input. You don’t have to like each other. You have to like your mate. As Ms. Mortenson said, your only option is to find another host country and another occupation. I happen to agree that these sorts of unions will go far toward stabilizing the situation. Hopefully, you’ll be the first of many.”
“I thought this was a suggestion,” Kellan objected. “Suggestions can be disregarded.”
“She made the suggestion to me. I issued the order to you. You have two weeks to pick a female who pleases you both and convince her to accept your claim.”