He’d been harsh with her last night, but it was necessary. He couldn’t chance her finding information on his computer or in his office. She needed to adhere to the boundaries he’d made for her. The thought of losing her was more than he could fathom.
Agnes bustled in with both hands holding a tray filled with plates of food, glasses of chillpal, a strange fruity drink that Blythe said was so bitter it felt like it took every bit of saliva out of her mouth—similar to something her mother called choke cherries. There was a generous portion of safome, a decadent dessert that his girl could eat without gagging and didn’t even have to put eegle jam on.
“Here you be, Master.”
“Thank you, Agnes. It looks wonderful.”
He rearranged the plates and glasses onto the table, watching Blythe from his periphery. She was adorable with the pronged collar; it seemed that breathing through her nose was bothersome because she would suddenly open her mouth, inhaling deeply.
His cock stirred behind his pants, her pink tongue calling to him.
Later.
He needed to feed his girl before her lactation practice and visiting Tegan. Ripping off a piece of lannes with eegle, he placed it on her waiting tongue.
She chewed slowly, shuttering her eyes on the deliciousness of it.
He’d been fortunate; some of the other foster families struggled with their girls losing weight due to the food here on this planet. It’d been sheer luck that the jam had been so palatable to her. He couldn’t bear to watch her lose the luscious curves he had grown to love so much.
He tipped the glass of chillpal to her lips, pouring it slowly into her mouth, and then with a bit of mischief, he pushed it up too far, watching the orange fluid trickle down her neck into the valley between her breasts.
“Oh, poor girl. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Such a pity.” He pushed his chair back. “Someone needs to clean you up, sweets. Guess the task has been left to me.”
Leaning forward, he ran his tongue between the lush, milk-laden globes, her dark nipples pebbling—the nipples broad with the fullness of them. Since she’d begun producing milk, he’d grown to love them more than he thought possible.
Hefting up each globe, he slid his tongue along the area where the breast met her chest. “Mmm, you’re so sweetie.” He then gave the twin the same treatment, progressing up her neck, licking and nibbling gently.
Kissing her lips gently, he pulled away, tapping the end of her nose where the prongs were tightly ensconced. “You’re so cute with your collar; the metal makes your nose upturned.”
He did his best to ignore the spark of fire in her eyes and the slight narrowing of her gaze even though he wanted to smile at the obvious internal struggle to keep her barbed retort to herself.
“Good girl.” Xan winked at her, breaking more of her bread apart, dipping it into the jam before feeding it to her. He continued until her portion had been consumed before dipping into her safome. He held the spoonful near her and watched her eyes sparkle, a full grin on her face.
“Are you excited, girl?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Have you earned this dessert, bad girl?” He raised his eyebrows at her in mock sternness.
Her smile quickly faded and she was unable to drop her head due to the nose strap. Instead, she dropped her gaze to the floor.
“Hey. Hey, bad girl.” He tapped the underside of her chin and smiled at her. “You deserve this dessert. I shouldn’t have teased you. My good girl.” He put the spoonful into her mouth, watching her eyes close around the decadent pudding, and continued to feed it to her until the bowl was empty.
“Do you feel full, Blythe?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Good.” He put the napkin down after wiping her mouth. He needed to keep her caloric intake up as long as she was producing milk; and as far as he was concerned, that would be long past the time that Tegan needed her. Keeping her curves and breast milk flowing were some of his goals—not the main goals, mind you, but important enough to ensure direct orders were given to the kitchen for her meals.
Now they only needed to do her milk exercises and then visit their baby. They’d fallen into a nice placid routine, and if he had any say, that would be how it stayed too. So why did he have an odd inkling to keep track of what his girl was doing all day? He shrugged it off as his overprotective nature, but the niggling wouldn’t go away.
Watch what she’s doing, Xan. Keep track of your girl. Be diligent.
Chapter Eleven
Blythe had packed a couple of bags for their excursion with supplies of water and snacks, along with several different things to make their stay at the cabin easier. She’d been squirreling away things a little at a time over the course of the ten days. She stared at the contents hoping she hadn’t forgotten anything.
She looked at the injector in her hand, feeling a pang of guilt…and fear. The last time she’d escaped to Xan’s cabin, she’d injected both Ganza and her Master with the sedative from the injector. She paid for it dearly with her backside and the added humiliation of voiding in the backyard for days. But she had no choice; how else would she start his vehicle, let alone leave the house without waking them up? It had to be done.
A shiver overtook her whole body, leaving her quivering in anticipation. She needed to see her friends. And she wouldn’t leave forever; she had a daughter now. She reminded herself that it was only for a short time…just a few hours.
Looking at the ceiling, the holo noted it was almost midnight.
No time like the present.
She tiptoed down the hall, not wanting to wake Xan, He was known to be a hard sleeper, but on the flip side, he would awaken at the slightest noise, so it was imperative she inject him before he awoke—or she’d never leave the house.
His long black eyelashes fluttered with his dreams. What was he dreaming? She’d love to know, hoping she was part of his slumber. That long nose of his was looking very Romanesque, which wasn’t possible but she swore he looked like a statue of Caesar. She fought the urge to run her fingers through his soft curls, the one lock that curled onto his forehead. Their daughter had the same hair, and Blythe couldn’t be happier about it.
Depressing the purple sedative button, she leaned forward to inject his neck. Just as it punctured his skin, she pushed the med in quickly, watching half of it disappear into his body. His eyes flew open, and he mumbled almost incoherently, “You disobeyed again. You’ll pay for this later, girl.”
“I had to. I’m sorry, Master.” She kissed his lips.
Reaching up he squeezed her neck with his large hand, his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared in anger, he squeezed her neck with his large hand. It was a definite warning, and she didn’t doubt that the consequences would be dire.
Closing his eyes, his hand fell limply off the side of the bed. She checked his neck for his pulse.
Strong and steady.
She briskly walked to Ganza’s room, ejecting the used needle and depressing the purple button again, releasing a new needle and more sedative.
The old woman snored, breathing deeply, her chest rising and falling rhythmically. Blythe injected her neck in the same manner, and the woman’s wide eyes stared at her in confusion before rolling slowly back into her head and falling back into her peaceful sleep once again.
Now the clock was ticking; she wouldn’t have much time before Xan and all the owners came to the cabin to retrieve their women. She ran to her room and grabbed all the bags, and then flying down the staircase, she grabbed the keys to the automated vehicle before going out the front door hoping not to wake Billex.
Blythe had been watching Xan closely for months now, keeping track of his movements and how to operate the vehicle and activate the GPS system, getting the Pra’kirean language exactly right, just as she had with the computer in the den.
First, she engaged the locks on the doors, started it up, and then adjusted the headset on her head, and then she spoke into the microphone in Pra’kir.
“Transport to Commander Rowth Lashat.” Holding her breath, she hoped that the AI would recognize her broken use of their language and that Xan didn’t have voice recognition activated.
“Yes, Sir. Would you like to land at the front door or the back door of Rowth’s house?” The mechanical female voice filled the vehicle, and Blythe pumped her fist in the air. She’d succeeded. Phase one had been completed.
“Back door, please.”
“Yes, Sir.” The whirr of the engine increased as the car levitated off the ground, getting higher than the house before connecting to the rail system and following the quickest route to the commander’s abode. Now she had to hope that Brinley had succeeded in planning her escape from the house undetected.
She watched the blue screen, which filled the whole interior with an eerie blue glow. The vehicle wove along the tracks, making its way along the pre-plotted path. The speed of the vehicle was another matter completely; she didn’t think she’d ever adjust to the high speed they traveled at here. Nausea threatened to overcome her, but she knew that vomiting in Xan’s vehicle would probably bring more wrath than the act of leaving. Breathing deeply through her nose and shutting her eyes, she eased the discomfort enough to keep from hurling.
The vehicle landed in the commander’s backyard, but before she could even exit, all the women—not just Brinley—came pouring out of the back door, running and waving wildly.
She flung the door open and ran to them. It felt like one of those romance movies, but none of them cared; they had missed each other so much. They’d been hugging for a while before Brinley broke in and interrupted them.
“We need to get the fuck out of here before Rowth wakes up. It won’t be nice; trust me on this.”
“She’s right,” Mira said. “We can do all of this at the cabin.”
The women ran toward the vehicle, Blythe wondered if she could fit them all in there, but then decided there was no way in hell she’d leave anyone behind. First, it wouldn’t be fair to whoever was left; and second, as they’d made it this far, they were staying together for the duration—however long that would end up being.
Once inside with everyone jammed together and some on each other’s laps, Blythe waved for everyone to be quiet, then speaking into the microphone, she shouted in Pra’kir, “My getaway.”
“Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir.” The voice shut off and the women all turned to gawp at her, mouths open.
Sarai blinked. “You’ve learned Pra’kir so easily you can communicate with their artificial intelligence?”
Blythe blushed. “Well, you guys know I’ve always been good with languages. Haven’t you all learned it by now?”
They murmured, “No.”
“Oh, sorry, I just assumed. Well, then I guess it’s a good thing that I’m the one who has the cabin and can talk to the machine.” She giggled. “It’s a nice cabin, but I don’t know how long we have. Xan and my nanny won’t be waking up for another couple hours, so we have at least that amount of time unless your owners wake up first.”
Brinley laughed. “Rowth will stay asleep, trust me, unless someone calls or turns the news on. Then we’re screwed. And I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you having a nanny.”
Blythe rolled her eyes. “Tell me about it. Imagine how I feel.”
Mira nodded. “It has to suck ass. I think my house will be okay for a while. It’ll more than likely be one of the girls who wakes the guys up. If the children stay asleep, I’m good until morning.”
Lilianna chimed in, “I told my men that I didn’t feel well, so I was put in my room with strict orders to sleep until morning. They won’t be looking for me either.”
Blythe nodded resolutely. “So we’ll hope that Xan doesn’t call anyone and sleeps through to morning also.” She took a deep breath, not feeling as brave as she sounded and shivered with fear. A punishment from Xan wasn’t something to trifle with and she felt weak in the knees with her rashness.
“Landing in three minutes.” The female voice interrupted the quiet that had filled the vehicle. No doubt the others were likewise questioning their sanity.
“Did I tell you all that I’m having a baby?”
Blythe hadn’t planned on blurting it out like that. In fact, she’d planned an elaborate story to tell her friends, but with the awkward silence and trepidation on their part, Blythe had thought an icebreaker was needed.
She’d never been known for being fluid or polished in her speech, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. The cat was out of the bag, so to speak, and now she’d deal with their reactions.
“A baby? Wait…how? I thought you were—”
“Infertile. Yes, I was…well, I still am. Xan—Dr. Breckett—took some tissue from my uterus and made a viable egg, merging it with his semen. I have an adorable little girl in an artificial uterus, and I can see her and touch her daily.
If I behave and don’t lose the privilege.
Mira hugged her, “What is her name?”
Blythe beamed. “It is Tegan Denisse.”
Brinley threw her arms around Blythe’s neck. “I’m so happy for you. A baby. It’s just what we need during this time…of loneliness and sadness. My grandfather used to say during times of death and despair that there was nothing better than a baby or puppy to break the sadness. It reinforces that life goes on, that we’re never to give up. A baby.”
Blythe felt her tears trickling down her cheeks, and she couldn’t resist hugging Brinley again. “Yes. It will give us hope.”
“You named her after your mother—Denise.” Sarai brushed her hand on Blythe’s arm, smiling softly at her friend.
“Yes. It’ll make me feel like she’s near. I miss everyone.”
Brinley said, “I hope you’re documenting some of your findings. An artificial uterus is a phenomenal discovery, and she’s been growing right before your eyes in an accessible growth incubator?”
“Yes, the amniotic fluid—or what they made synthetically to match it—is nourishes her, giving her all the required nutrients she needs to develop. It’s actually pretty amazing. Tegan’s eyes opened this week, and she has black curls like Xan. I’ve fallen completely in love with her, you guys.”
Lilianna smiled. “I bet. I feel like I love her already. It’s amazing what your captor has done for you. Do you love him, Blythe? You sound like you love him.”
“I do. It complicates things for me…maybe for all of us. I’ve begun a family here, but it doesn’t negate my family on Earth, and I’m just…not sure I can leave him…or take her away from him.” Blythe dropped her gaze to her lap, afraid to see the judgment on her friends’ faces. But when she peeped at them, instead she saw every single one of them with tears in their eyes, nodding their heads.
Lilianna said, “I know I love my men, so I understand what you’re saying.”
Brinley looked to the other women and said, “I think we all feel that way. We were talking before you came, and we’ve all fallen in love with our captors. We’ll have to talk more in depth about this, but maybe plans have changed for all of us.”
Blythe agreed, “Maybe they have.”
“Landing.” The automated vehicle stopped on the tracks, departing from them and slowly descending in front of the cabin.
“We’re here. Let’s get out, put all our stuff in the cabin, and I’ll make us some eegle tea.”
Mira groaned, “God, I hate everything to eat and drink here. Look at me! I’ve wasted away to nothing.”
Blythe looked up and down at her friend. “You do look puny. Let me make you this tea and some lannes with eegle jam. Maybe you’ll like it too.”
The women exited and entered into the cabin. They’d done it. They were finally together. Alive and well. Now to catch up and hope their men slept for a long while.
Chapter Twelve
Xan sat fuming at his desk in the den, staring at the monitor that showed not only his disobedient slave, but all her shipmates from the Reconnaissance, which meant these men we
re either panicking looking for their own disobedient wards, or were still sound asleep thinking they were safe and sound asleep as well.
He shook his head knowing that the first phone call he’d have to make was to Rowth. Xan found himself thankful that the man was no longer his superior.
There was a light knock on the den door.
“Come in.”
Billex entered, walking slowly toward Xan. “She did it again, Sir.”
“Indeed.” Xan ran a hand over his face to hide the twitch from wanting to blister her ass just thinking about it.
Leaning slightly, his butler peered over the desk to get a closer view of Xan’s neck. “She used the injector, I see. But… you’re awake quicker. It didn’t last as long as the last time.”
“My naughty minx thinks she’s outsmarted me, but it is I who has outsmarted her. I put a diluted sedative in it, reducing the amount of time we’d be knocked out. From watching the videos, it appears we were only asleep for approximately forty-five minutes.” Xan mindlessly tapped on the keyboard, changing the views he had back to the view of the girls at his cabin.
“Sir, if I may be so bold. If you were going to dilute it, why not just put sugar water in it so you wouldn’t pass out at all, thus capturing the disobedient slave in the act immediately?” Billex quirked an eyebrow in Xan’s direction.
“Point well-made.” Xan leaned back in his chair, regarding his employee thoughtfully before answering. “I thought of that myself, but you see, I wanted to see if her conscience would get the best of her. Once she saw me paralyzed by her hand once again, maybe her fear and loyalty would have her hesitating, feeling guilty and waiting for me to wake up. I wanted to see the depths of her fidelity. Alas, it seems my bad girl has a way to go yet, and I have to admit it stings a bit.” Xan looked over at the image on his desk of Blythe in her collar, tail, and ears, playfully laughing for the picture.
A Baby for Pra'kir (Captives of Pra'kir Book 6) Page 8
