She opened herself, blushing with the knowledge that Rowth witnessed her sphincter muscle spreading into an “O” for the plug willingly. “This tail brushes against her thighs when she crawls. I keep her on her hands and knees, and I’ve taken to adding nipple clamp wind chimes along with the bell so all of us can hear where she is in the house. She is not allowed to stand or feed herself, and she must heel at all times. If she deviates from any of the rules that apply to her pet status, she is spanked with the leash or a crop that I keep handy for these situations. She has a crate and a pet bed that she sleeps in…our bed is only for good girls and pets. Isn’t that right, bad kitty?”
“Yes, Daddy.” Her voice broke on the last word. She loved him. Loved calling him Daddy. Disappointing him, hurt her probably more than it did him, her only goal was to please him.
“Daddy?” Rowth’s voice lilted up into a question.
“Yeah, she calls me that now. I like it.” Xan had a hint of sheepishness in his response. “Since we started expecting Tegan, she’s been referring to me in my new title of Daddy.”
“I’ll try to not tease the fucking piss out of you.”
“Thanks, asshole. I appreciate it.”
Rowth nodded mischievously. “No problem. So how often do you keep her as a pet? Is it only for punishment?”
“You can kneel up and face us, girl.”
Blythe pivoted on her knees and only briefly made eye contact with the stern dark-haired man still leaning on Xan’s desk before dropping her gaze to her Master’s shoes in front of her.
“I love having her as a good kitty. I feed her, cuddle with her, and take her outside for walks. We enjoy this aspect of our relationship. But when she’s bad, she experiences first-hand the plight of being a naughty pet — no speaking, no walking, no feeding herself, harsh discipline, and even urinating outside. Believe me when I say that she works very hard to be a treasured kitten versus a bad kitty.”
Rowth stared pensively at Blythe, and she shifted uncomfortably at the intensity of his gaze. “I may need to try this on my own.”
“There’s no wrong way to do this—whatever you’re comfortable with, Sir. If you don’t mind me saying it, I have a brand-new tail and collar that have never been used if you’d like to try it now.”
Brinley gasped. “Don’t even tell me that you’re thinking about this.”
“You’ll be quiet.” Rowth fluidly rose from the desk, his long legs bringing him quickly to Brinley’s side. He wagged his index finger at her. “This is not your decision.” Without taking his eyes away from Brinley, he said, “Yes, Xan, please bring us the toys… I’m anxious to see my girl dropped a peg or two.”
Chapter Fifteen
Rowth sat on the corner of Xan’s desk, watching both naked women, both gorgeous in their own way, but he had to admit that Blythe was much curvier and pleasing to the eye.
He’d known Dr. Breckett as being methodical, but the quiet, reserved man surprised Rowth. He would have never guessed that the man lived like this with his ward; the commander didn’t know anyone else on their planet that kept their ward and slave as a pet.
A tail. And shock collar for her anus? Who did that?
And yet, here he was waiting for the good doctor to bring down a new set to try on his bad girl.
He stared at the now-healed Brinley, vibrant and obviously back to her normal self. He had suspected that as the lead shipmate from Earth, she had dominant skills as well as the ability to organize her fellow astronauts, but he didn’t think he’d have to worry about her coordinating an escapade like they’d seen tonight.
Rowth had spent a great deal of time nursing Brinley to health, keeping track of her eating and activity, not wanting to tax her body any further than necessary, and yet here he was in the middle of the fucking night, picking her up at a Xan’s cabin after drinking and eating like she was … well, like she was a minor. Which she was, of course, but it pissed him off to have an outright rebellion occur right under his nose…in his own house.
He prided himself on running a tight ship, always knowing what his employees and servants were doing at all times. How did this slip of a woman, with visible scars all over her body, coordinate such a fiasco? He’d damn well find out, that was for sure.
It was at that point that Xan briskly entered the room, handing Rowth a long black fluffy tail and a collar with a matching bell. “Here you go. I think you’ll like the control it gives you. It’s currently programmed with my voice, so I’ll shout the commands when I would normally do them for Blythe, which will actually work very well for this evening. This way, when one misbehaves, both of them will suffer the consequences. If you like the tail and collar by the end of the evening, we can reprogram it with your voice.”
“I like how your mind works, good doctor. Yes, they both orchestrated the shenanigans this evening and therefore they can both suffer the shocks together. Good idea. I don’t doubt that this instrument will become a favorite of mine.” Swirling the tail in front of him, he walked toward a grim faced Brinley. “Turn around.”
“I just…you can’t think…No.” Her chin rose in defiance and she pursed her lips.
“No? Wrong answer, girl. Turn.”
Her throat visibly worked to swallow. She didn’t move immediately but must have reasoned it through in her mind and decided that obeying was in her best interest. No one ever said his girl was stupid, just stubborn as fuck. And to prove his point, she turned but didn’t voluntarily bend over. With a smack to her pristine buttocks with every word, he shouted, “Bend. Over. Now.”
Brinley growled but bent over. Rowth pressed the small plug to the tight little whorl, pushing it in slowly.
Xan cleared his throat. “You may find, Rowth, that when she growls or shows other signs of minor defiance, a loud and clear order of using the word—” At that point, Xan raised his voice shouting, “Warning.”
Brinley stiffened, her hands clenching at her sides. “Oh…oh shit!”
“You see? There is just enough pain to grab her attention, reminding her that you’re in control all aspects of her life—including her little bottomhole.”
“Oh…I like this. A lot. Bend over, Pet.”
She quickly obeyed.
Rowth’s cock was impossibly hard. He wanted nothing more than to fuck her immediately. His handprints, now a bright pink, were outlined clearly on her bottom. He popped the small plug into her bottom, flicking the tail; her moans of dislike loud and clear.
“Level one!” Xan’s voice boomed.
Brinley jerked upright, both hands cupping her buttocks. “Ow! Ohhh!” She bounced on her knees a bit, which had her breasts wobbling and swaying, his penis jerking behind his clothing.
At the same time, Blythe jerked, her body tensing.
Rowth leaned around and said to Brinley, “It hurts, doesn’t it, girl. And that’s only level one. Imagine what levels two and three feel like.”
“I’ll be good.”
Rowth laughed. “It appears to be working already, Xan.”
“Oh, wait. You’ll see a better response than that.” Xan rose from the chair he’d been sitting in. “Okay, pet, rise and grasp your ankles, legs spread. You too, Brinley. Legs spread. It’s time for your punishment. We’ll be asking questions during the spankings.” He walked slowly around the women, raising their chins to make eye contact. “You’ll answer respectfully and honestly.”
Each woman nodded.
“Answer me.” Xan’s voice brooked no disobedience. Rowth’s respect for this man grew to a much higher level.
Who would have guessed the secret life Dr. Breckett led?
“Spread your legs wider. Wider.”
“Son of a bitch, this is a bit ridiculous.” Brinley rose, her face red with her anger.
Rowth smirked behind his hand, having no doubt the reaction his friend would have.
“Level two!”
Both women fumbled with their hands and feet on the floor, seeking purchase to keep from falling
.
“Brinley, dear, I’d keep your mouth shut. Apparently, I’ve been too lenient. Mind Xan and do as you’re told.”
The women were still again, jackknifed in half with both of their pussies dripping and fully visible in the glorious position Xan had ordered.
“You like this position, Rowth?”
“What is there not to like about it?”
“Exactly. My cook had Blythe bent like this one day, and I’ve taken it over as one of my favorites.” Xan harshly pinched one of Blythe’s plump cheeks. “My pet doesn’t particularly like it, which makes it very effective.”
Rowth cupped the plump purse of his girl’s sex. “You’re so wet, girl. I think this excites you. Who knew?”
The men chuckled. It was beyond what most men dream of—naked women, slaves and captives, open and ready for their ministrations and yet both cherished and loved, actually treasured and protected by their men. Xan had gone a step further by providing a child to his woman.
Rowth paused for a moment.
Would Brinley want to have a child with him?
He’d never had children either. If he was going to take the plunge, now would be the time. As independent as his Brinley was, he wondered if she’d see a child as a burden or would a baby melt her demeanor, making her softer and…maternal.
“Rowth, have I told you that with some daily practice, Blythe is lactating?”
Blythe loudly groaned, ending on a loud whine.
“Warning!”
Both girls shivered, their backs tensing.
“You mean…she’s producing milk? How?” Rowth couldn’t even imagine.Was that even possible?
“Oh yes, and an appreciable amount too. Through some research, I found that women as old as sixty have been known to produce milk with persistence and diligence from the men in their lives. The men can enjoy the benefits of a milk maid for life if they desire it, and the women actually enjoy it. I’m sure there are some who don’t, but for the most part, their studies show that they enjoy forced lactation and servicing their men.”
“Sixty? That’s old for women from Earth. And what the fuck is a milk maid?” Rowth felt confused; it wasn’t a term he’d ever heard before.
Xan threw his head back laughing. He squatted in front of his woman, his head positioned in such a way that Rowth wondered if he was going to lick her pussy in front of him, but instead, he reached forward with both hands and started pulling on her nipples like one would a siopp, a beast on the lands of Endermere.
“According to Blythe, there are animals on Earth that are black and white that produce milk for the humans, and historically, there were women called milk maids who milked the animals and delivered it to families. Now they have machines for that and milk maids are what they call women who breastfeed the men in their lives. Personally, I love that she shared that term with me; I call her that often. Don’t I, little milk maid?”
“Yes, Master.”
“Ahhh, there it is. See, her milk is completely in, thick and sweet as looplab.”
The milk was a white with a faint tint of blue. It sprayed forth with such force that Rowth found himself amazed. “But the milk here is white with a green tint. This is bluish.”
“Yes, and I have to say, it is so sweet. Come, lean down and take a sip; she’s okay with it. I’ve been drinking it several times a day getting her ready for Tegan.” Xan rose, waving his hand toward Blythe, patting her hip like a fractious animal. “Blythe is a good girl; she’ll let you sip.”
Rowth felt his chest tighten. And although his cock stirred almost continuously at this point, he felt hesitant to suck on another woman’s breast. After all, this wasn’t his woman. And speaking of which, how would his woman feel about this? Would Brinley be offended, or feel rejected on some level. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings; she’d been so fragile, and it had taken some time to earn her trust, so having earned it, he certainly didn’t want to ruin his devotion to her.
Rowth hesitated, his eyes skittering toward Brinley.
“Oh.” Xan hesitated, looking from Blythe to Brinley. “I understand. Our girls can be possessive with us and get emotional, but this is for…science. You aren’t doing it for sexual purposes. Although, I’d be surprised if it didn’t turn you on as much as it does me.’”
He motioned between Blythe’s legs again. “I promise you, you’ve never tasted anything as sweet as this, and it’s not heavy either. Thin and refreshing.”
Rowth knelt under Blythe’s long, shapely legs. His hands gently clasped her muscled calves, lightly brushing up toward her thighs before crouching under her. The hefty globes were dangling toward the floor, a steady dribble of milk puddling in front of him. His right hand cupped one breast, tipping the nipple up; he enveloped it, sucking gently at first, but once he’d been rewarded with a firm spurt of nectar, he sucked even harder, the fluid hitting the back of his throat with a force that almost had him choking.
Blythe shifted, her hips flexing, brushing her naked pussy along his back. These women, even though they weren’t small by Earth standards, they were very petite on Pra’kir, so trying to accommodate his broad back between her legs didn’t give her much space for movement.
The scent of her sex filled his nostrils, and the sweet breast milk from her made him almost heady. Letting the soft flesh slip from his lips, he mumbled to Xan, “By the God of Na, you’re right. Fuck. Is all human milk this sweet?” Rowth shimmied out from under Blythe, patting her ass affectionately as he stood.
“From what I’ve read, yes.” Xan smiled down at his girl, the pride evident on his face. His eyes softened at the corners, crinkling with a smug smile, his large hand rubbing affectionately on her hip.
“I’ve told her that I might never let her stop lactating. I’ve already grown used to my feedings, as she calls them. And just like the women here, she can feed multiple babies, producing enough milk for all of them, so there’s no need to feel like I’m taking food from Tegan’s mouth, so to speak.”
“I could see where one would grow used to that. You’re a lucky man, Xan.”
“Indeed, I am.”
“It’s easy to see why Ashmal Thanius made you a judge on the Council of Nine. You’ve provided medical statistics on the first Earthly human, produced the first alien and Pra’kir baby, and now you’ve induced lactation without the normal gestation. You’ve proven your medical prowess, good sir. The title has been awarded to you justly.” Rowth couldn’t help but reach out and shake his colleague’s hand.
“Rowth, I just want you to know that I never anticipated being a judge, ever. My only career goal was to work my way up to Surgeon General. I strived for many, many years to attain that title. When Ashmal came to my house to offer me the title, I want you to know that I did mention you. But he assured me that your time would be coming…I just…it was uncomfortable for me—personally and professionally. Please know this.”
Rowth swallowed past the lump in his throat. The loss of the title had been a blow to his pride. He’d worked hard to revive and medically reconstruct Brinley, and knew that he’d be rewarded justly. He’d come up with a cure for the Mekron. It never occurred to him that the council would bypass him. To then have them overlook the rule that a judge must have a legal background had wounded him.
A Doctor…a damn doctor.
He did not doubt that he’d whispered and shouted that phrase daily for weeks. He felt slighted, confused, and bamboozled by the lack of adherence to their planet’s policies. But hearing this admission today lightened the pain, eased his angst.
He’d considered leaving his post and retiring with the woman he loved, playing and spanking her ass all day. Growing old with a good woman seemed to be the way to end his last hundred years. But some of the wizened old men on the council had assured him that if he left now, he’d miss the appointment of a lifetime. And he knew they were right; he’d strived his whole life, and the prospect of missing the promotion—a much-deserved promotion at that—by only a few months
seemed senseless.
Despair did that. Hopelessness had sunk in, taking any positive thoughts for a while. He’d felt swallowed by the dark tunnel pulling and sucking him down. And truthfully, if it hadn’t been for the beautiful woman displaying her charms right in front of him, he was not sure how different the story would have ended.
He nodded to himself when this punishment and excursion to the Breckett house finally ended; he’d talk to Brinley about having a baby. After all, Blythe had done it, and now they were becoming a happy family. Maybe they’d become friends, or as was suggested earlier in the evening, maybe they’d all form a support system sharing and discussing information, letting their women not feel so secluded and lonely.
“I knew her milk wouldn’t drop once the pain started. I just wanted to share some of that with you before we start whipping these naughty asses.” Xan pinched Blythe’s large brown nipples hard, stopping the slow drip of her milk immediately; only a droplet clung the tip, begging to be licked.
If his girl weren’t watching, Rowth would have crawled between her legs to suckle for a while there, but Brinley’s trust in him was worth more than that to him.
* * *
With a loud slap to her hip, Xan startled Blythe. “So, tell me who contacted who and when.” He unbuckled his belt, pulling it quickly through the loops on his uniform, and he watched the goosebumps rise on her backside.
He looked over and noticed that Brinley had broken out in goosebumps. “They seem to dread the belt. It amazes me because I know there are worse implements, but the fear of this particular one keeps them on their toes.”
“That it does, Xan,” Rowth said.
“Answer, Blythe, while I retrieve your paddle and cane.” Xan walked toward the large cabinet on the far side of the room that held all the objects of her misery.
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