Mastered by the Zandians: Alien Warrior Reverse Harem Romance

by Rose, Renee

  “Nice and easy, just like that,” he whispers, bending his head down so I can feel his breath on my skin. “And keep that ass soft while I spank you.”

  I hear it first, the crack of his palm against my skin, the sound echoing around the chamber. Then I feel the sting, an abrupt new sensation.

  “Ow.” I twist, but he’s holding me tightly.

  “No complaining.” He spanks me again. It’s harder, and I breathe into it. I’m no stranger to pain; a fighter outlaw suffers more breaks and sprains than you can imagine.

  But I’ve never experienced this particular kind of pain, where it’s trained on my most sensitive areas, and given in a deliberate and conscious mix with pleasure. It’s intoxicating. Even being held down— something that would normally make me inflamed, is pleasurable.

  “Remind me why I need to spank you.” His voice is firm, authoritative.

  “Start with an apology,” Lanz suggests, holding my ankles in his hands. In the midst of my sensations, I notice he holds my body, delicately but firmly, his hands wrapped around my ankles, stroking the bones with his thumbs. It’s erotic and exotic and for a second I forget about what Domm is doing.

  It comes back to me, though, when he slaps my ass again. “Mirelle, I’m waiting.”

  “I’m sorry you’re an animal.” I pant out the words, and even though I know it’s going to mean a new assault on my already sore ass, I smile to myself in victory when he grunts in surprise and irritation. “Ha.”

  “An animal, is that right?” He spanks my thighs, a rapid fire of spanks.

  “Ow. Stop!” I twist down. “I’ll bite you.”

  “You just try it.” He laughs. “Little vipn. Maybe you need the strap instead.”

  “You can use my sword belt.” Lanz lets go of my ankles for a second, and then I hear a swishing sound as he removes the strip of leather from his waist. “Double it over and give her a dozen or so strokes. I imagine that will make her more likely to listen.”

  “No, don’t,” I moan. But we all hear the tone, which actually seems to say, “Yes, please, do it.” I’m a little horrified to hear such a sound from my own throat. Is it horrible that I actually like what they’re doing to me right now? That I actually wonder what a belt will feel like across my bare skin?

  Then I don’t care anymore, because Domm shifts me off his lap, back up to my feet. “It’s your belt, so why don’t you do the honors. I’d like to see her face while you strap her.”

  “Gladly.” Lanz arranges me as easily as if I were made of paper, pushing my torso down to Domm’s lap and kicking my legs apart. “Hold her hands.”

  Domm holds my hands in one of his larger ones and tips up my chin gently. “Tell me why we’re punishing you.”

  I pant. “Because you’re evil.”

  Lanz slaps my ass hard enough to bring tears to my eyes.

  “Try again. We’ll keep trying until you get it right.” Domm raises a brow, his face serious. His horns are so firm I crave taking one in my mouth. But I can’t now, because they are bent on punishing me.

  “I’m sorry my mission interfered with your lives and was partially responsible for the Ocretion attack,” I gasp.

  “Partially?” Lanz spanks me again, and I cry out. If this is his hand, how will I ever handle the strap?

  “Well, don't you think that your own free will was responsible for at least part of your...ow!” I wail, as he brings down the strap. The bite of the leather is a line of fire across my ass. “Mother Earth.”

  “Look at that gorgeous mark.” Lanz runs his hand over my burning skin. I flinch. “Domm, should we go for one dozen, or two?”

  “Start with a good hard twelve, and we’ll see from there.” Domm holds my chin again. “Mirelle, look at me.”

  My eyes swim with tears, not really from pain—pain doesn’t make me cry—but more from the newness of this intimate position, my confusion at liking it, and anger at being made to apologize.

  “And this spanking is also to remind you to be obedient and respectful in front of our king,” he says. “And to respect our authority as your Zandian hosts.”

  “Punishment,” agrees Lanz, bringing down the strap across my thighs, “can be used for more than one purpose.”

  “Quite useful, definitely.” Domm cradles my head and lifts my torso enough to kiss me, just as Lanz brings the strap down again, so hard that I cry out.

  My sound is lost in Domm’s lips, and as he slants his mouth over mine, I kiss him back. I wonder if he worries or cares that I might bite him when the strap comes down. Then I do it, and as he growls fiercely into my mouth and returns the kiss, I realize that he likes it. He likes it rough, like I do. They both do. This is perfect.

  Time fades into a blur, as Lanz whips me over and over with the strap, and Domm looks into my eyes, kisses me, strokes my cheeks.

  The pain is sharp and strong, although not unbearable, and as the two of them work my body, I start to feel floaty. How odd, to feel this safe and secure—protected, almost, while I’m being punished. It makes no sense, but yet it’s true, and my eyes flutter shut, and instead of saying, ow! I’m murmuring, Oh, Oh, in a voice that sounds more encouraging than upset. I lift my ass up to meet his belt, even though the sting is wild and fierce.

  “Look how vecking red her ass is.” Lanz straps me again and I moan, shift my thighs.

  “And she’s so wet, too. I can smell her pussy from here.” Domm’s voice is harsh with need.

  “She’s ready for us.”

  “But first we need to finish her punishment.”

  “Of course.”

  They pause for a moment. I whine out in irritation, and shift my thighs, asking them with my body to continue.

  “Last set,” Lanz says, his voice firm.

  This time, when the belt comes down, it’s harder than before, and I can see how much he was holding back. “Ouch!” I cry out, angry and frustrated he switched it up. I liked it before, when the pleasure swirled through it. This time, it just hurts.

  “This is the punishment,” Lanz tells me. “It’s supposed to hurt.”

  And when he spanks me rapidly, setting my ass on fire, I feel the difference. There’s no time to breathe between strokes, no time to let the pleasure grow. No, all I feel is the sting and burn. And the lecture—that burns, too.

  “You are going to listen to us while you are here,” he instructs. “You will show respect to our king. You’ll do your best to integrate into our society. You won’t cause trouble.”

  I can barely focus on his words.

  “You are not going to steal anything from us.”

  “Repeat it back.” Domm’s voice is calm. “Tell us.”

  I growl, but because I want it to stop, I say the words. “I…ow, I’ll be respectful. Integrate. I won’t steal.”

  He finally stops. “I think she’s learned her lesson for now. Domm, do you agree?”

  Domm lets go of my hands, stands up. runs his hands over my ass. “I would say yes. She could take a few dozen more, I’m sure, but this is her first time, so we’ll go easy on her.”

  “This is easy?” I choke out, but I’m playing the role of punished slave. Part of me still wants more, though I won’t admit it to him.

  Domm strokes my hair back from my face. “We want you, Mirelle. Very much. If you ended up in a dungeon instead, it would vecking kill us. And we can’t take that chance. If you can’t manage compliance on your own, just yet, we will help you get there.”

  “What about my reward?” I gulp. “Where did that part go?”

  “I think there’s still time for it.” Domm smiles. “Sometimes we’ll make you wait. But this planet rotation, we’ll allow you to come.”

  “You’ll allow me?”

  “Mmm.” Domm pinches one of my nipples. “Orgasms come at our pleasure, not yours.” He lifts me up. “Let’s lay her down so we can both play with her pretty body.”

  Lanz moves and they lay me on my back on the hover seat and although I hiss at t
he feel of the fabric on my sore ass, I’m eager for what comes now.

  “Legs nice and open,” he tells me, and I do it. My pussy is swollen and dripping now, a feeling that’s new for me. My nipples tingle with a matching need.

  “It’s my turn to taste her.” Domm goes to the edge of the bench. “Mirelle, I’m going to lick you to the stars, sweet human.”

  “I’m not sweet.”

  He puts his mouth to my clit and licks, a long firm stroke. “Agree to disagree.”

  He licks me again, and my thighs tremble. “Because this,” he says, and ducks his head back, swirling his tongue around my clit, “is the most delicious pussy in the universe.”

  I arch my back, trying to push my hips closer to his mouth. “Oh, my stars.”

  Lanz leans over me from the side of the bench, his lips inches from mine. “Did you like your punishment?” He gives me a lazy grin, smiling as my eyes go wide and I gasp at Domm’s tongue. “The correct answer, please remember, is yes, Master, I did like my punishment.”

  “Say it or I stop,” warns Domm.

  I cry out as fast as I can. “Yes, Master, I liked my punishment.” It’s not a lie. The things they did—so unexpected and rough, filled a need in my soul. Gave me something I didn’t even know I craved. And I want more. “I liked it.”

  “That’s right,” Domm murmurs, then sticks his tongue into my pussy, making me squirm in pleasure.

  “You’re always going to appreciate our punishments.” Lanz takes my nipples into his fingers, rolls them softly. “Being obedient for us makes life far more…pleasurable.” On that last word, he pinches both nipples and Domm bites my clit—not too hard, but enough to startle me.

  “Tell us you’re going to be a good little human for us,” encourages Lanz, as Domm increases the speed of his tongue.

  I’m panting now, close to the precipice of need. I squeeze my eyes shut and fist my hands near my head, tossing my body.

  “I…I…” I try to manipulate my body closer to Domm’s tongue, but he moves away tantalizingly, just far enough to keep me on the edge. “Please, please, I need to…”

  I try again to push my clit toward him. Just a little more pressure and I’ll launch right into the stars.

  But he’s so frustrating. Again he retreats, making me stay on that razor edge.

  “Say it and I’ll let you come.”

  “I’ll be your good human, I promise, I swear, just let me…” I beg.

  “That’s what I like to hear.” Domm smiles and then his mouth is exactly where I need it, just the right pressure, the right spot. Everything. I moan and my whole body tenses up, my quads are hard like rocks as I squeeze my buttocks together, trying to harness the feeling into a tight ball so I can make it explode.

  “That’s it,” Lanz says, a note of pleasure in his voice. “Veck, Mirelle, take it. Fly.”

  And at his words, I scream out as my body bursts into a million shards of light, the sensation of pleasure so great, the sweetest nectar I’ve ever tasted, suffusing me with a feeling so fine and pure that I almost think I might die.

  When I come back to myself, I’m in Domm’s arms, draped over him. Lanz sits beside us, stroking my legs. I stretch and press myself into Domm’s chest. “That was…” I look up at his face. But I can’t find the words.

  He smiles. “Good?”

  “More than good. Exquisite.” Even that doesn’t sum up the experience. “I’ve never before…”

  “Never had an orgasm?” He sounds startled. “Not even at your own hand?”

  “Not like that.” I’m too full of pleasure to snap at him and say something about how when you’re busy trying to survive there’s no time for frivolity.

  Of course I’ve stroked my clit before, and achieved a satisfactory—pleasant—release. But now that I’ve felt this—the other thing is faded and weak, sad, in comparison. No, this is the most glorious celebration of my physical body that I’ve ever felt in my life.

  “Sweet Mirelle. There will be infinite more orgasms in your future. Every planet rotation,” Lanz promises, running his hand over my hair. “Three times a planet rotation, if you want.” He crouches down to look into my eyes. “Are you all right?” He strokes my ass.

  “Fine. I’m fine.”

  Transformative might come closer, because I feel different from the inside out. I had no concept that a human body could experience such a thing. A powerful rush of affection and ownership fills me for these two Zandians. Mine. They did this to me. With me.

  Domm shifts, and I realize he’s still fully clothed. Feel that he’s aroused under my body.

  I blink. “But you didn’t…neither of you.” I look from one to the other. “I—should I?” I’m not exactly sure what they want, but I know it’s not customary—or fair, probably—for only one being to be satisfied in these encounters.

  “Later.” Domm bites my shoulder softly and laughs. “I want it more than anything, but there’s no time.”

  “Don’t worry. There will many opportunities to show your gratitude and return the favor.” Lanz’ voice is husky with need and a hint of demand, and I shiver with pleasurable anticipation. My body already wants more.

  “Put your garment back on.” Lanz picks it up and shakes it out, strokes the cloth. “Adjust your hair.”

  “What’s wrong with my hair?” I frown at him as I slide the soft fabric over my curves.

  “Nothing.” He looks at Domm. “It’s just a little”—he holds his hands up, as if demonstrating a halo around his skill—“perhaps…disarrayed. We are going to meet the king, and we need you to look composed.”

  I narrow my eyes and pat at the wayward strands. “Perhaps if you wanted me to look more presentable, you shouldn’t have pulled me aside for a private meeting of this kind.” Although I’m glad they did.

  He laughs. “I think you enjoyed your private meeting, am I right?” He touches my ass. “Sore?”

  I wince away, even though it’s not really. Not anymore. “Yes. Terribly.” I make an exaggerated face of dismay.

  His face falls and I try to stifle a smile.

  “Are you?” He pulls me to him by the arm. “Veck, Domm, we were too hard. Go get the soothing salve immediat—”

  I shake my head and touch his arm. “Just a little sore. I’m fine.” Why I care about his concern is strange. I should be wincing in mock agony to convince them never to do that again. The problem is, though, that I want them to do it again. Just as hard and primal. Because, as it turns out, my body likes it. Is already craving more.

  Of course, I tell myself, this is an even better plan than fighting them—going along with it. If I let them think I care for them, and like what they do to me, I can earn their trust faster. Get them to let down their guard. And then I can more easily make plans to escape. Yes. That’s what I’m doing here. If I really do like it, well, that just means my ruse will be that much more realistic.

  “Good. Just a little is just right.” He grins. “And remember, we can always do it again if necessary, so keep that in mind while you choose your words in the next few minutes.”

  “Yes, Master,” I mutter.

  “That’s what I like to hear.” He squeezes my tender ass once.

  Chapter 6

  Lanz

  Despite the fact that our little human surrendered to us sexually, I’m not foolish enough to believe she’s truly reconciled to laying down her sword and living on Zandia. We saw her skills in deception back on our ship. The female is cunning and clever.

  I believe she will continue to feign acceptance before our king, but I can’t be sure. My fingers squeeze into fists as we enter the throne room. Truly, if Zander finds fault with her and throws her in a dungeon, he may have to throw me there, too.

  We step into the newly rebuilt Great Hall, modeled after the ancient one in the original Palace of Zander. The new hall is a mixture of the old and high-tech. King Zander sits on the throne—a role he’s always hated because he’s more warrior than king.
/>   “Is this the human in question?” Our king regards Mirelle with an even countenance. His sword edge gleams in the light like a laser, his quiet power coming not from pomp, but from the fierce nobility of our species.

  Mirelle tenses between us.

  “Yes, my lord. This is Mirelle.” I squeeze her hand, which is cold and limp in mine.

  “Step forward,” the king commands.

  Her legs appear unsteady, but she shakes off our assistance and steps forward, gaze even.

  “Curtsy,” Domm murmurs.

  She hesitates a beat, long enough for my gut to twist, but then drops into an exaggerated dip.

  Oh, veck. King Zander will see through her submissive little human who’s entirely grateful to be here act in a moment. He’s no fool, and with a human mate, has first-hand experience with their deceit.

  “What do you have to say for yourself?” King Zander gazes at her, his eyes cool and assessing.

  She draws a deep breath. “My name is Mirelle and I’m a human freedom fighter.”

  Oh, for veck’s sake! I don’t move from my warrior’s stance of respect, but I want to slap my forehead.

  We made her practice more than once in the hallway the appropriate thing to say.

  “Thank you for the medical care. It saved my life.” She touches her shoulder.

  Better. But probably too little, too late. Sweat beads around my horns as I watch our king’s face for signs of his displeasure. Of course, he rarely shows much, so I find nothing there.

  “Explain how you came to steal Zandian property and causing a near-deadly altercation with Ocretion pirates.”

  Mirelle shifts on her feet.

  “I have spent my life rescuing humans. I did not mean to cause harm or damage to the Zandian fleet or citizens. I was merely executing the missions that make up my life’s work.”

  “And how many have you rescued?”

  “Fifty-seven, my lord.” She lifts her chin. “Forty-nine men and six women. Two children.”

  “And where are they now?”

  “Jesel.” Her gaze falters, fingers pick at her tunic.