“Good. So, to keep our pets happy, I took what my girl said to heart. She needs her friends, and Brinley said the same thing. I’ve given it some thought. If I were taken away from Pra’kir and transplanted onto Earth—new foods, people, customs—and sequestered away from anyone familiar, I’d be devising plans to meet up with them. It makes sense. If we want them to be truly happy with us, we need to allow them to visit and spend time together, you know, do things that women do. Whatever the fuck that is.”
Rowth chuckled. “I’m not sure I know either. Both of us are consummate bachelors; I don’t even have female friends. I’m thinking we should initially try to get them all together with supervision. I’m not sure I trust any of them individually, let alone in a group without our watchful eyes.”
Xan replied, “True. I was thinking of having them get together at someone’s house, even if it is ours or yours the first time with either one of us guarding the door and watching from cameras for misbehavior or devious activities.”
“Oh, that would work. I think I’d vote for your house, Xan. Between you, Ganza, Billex and all the cameras, there would be zero worries.”
“Well, I’d like to agree, but let’s not forget that they devised their plan from my house and rode in my vehicle. However, I assure you I’ve added some security measures to everything, including voice and hand recognition for everything. It would be pretty impossible for them to hijack a vehicle or even get out of my house at this point.”
“Splendid.” Rowth leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I have an idea; maybe you’ll agree. I think the girls would love it.”
Chapter Nineteen
Blythe sat in their living room reading a book in front of the fire. She was actually clothed this morning. It was a rarity in their house, which made her question Ganza when she’d pulled the outfit from the closet.
“Are you sure he said so? I’ll be the one paddle if you’re wrong.” Blythe stared at the woman intently, watching for any facial signs that might give her away as lying.
“I believe my hearing is fine, girl. He told me to dress you today, so don’t go looking for this gift with side-eye. Just be glad and put them on. You’ll probably wish to be free of them in two hours and then will be whining to your Daddy about taking them off.” The old goat rolled her eye dramatically while Blythe fought the urge to spit a biting retort but decided she’d probably end up with a tail instead, so she swallowed the comment.
And even if she did whine to her Daddy later, what fucking business was it to this old coot? The chances were probably pretty high that she’d be annoyed with clothing; after all, she wasn’t used to wearing it most days.
She’d put on some cream-colored leggings with thick pink socks and a pale brown cashmere sweater that went past her hips with a cream and pink scarf to accent. Once downstairs, she determined that she’d stay out of the way and read a book in the den, minding her business until Xan came home from the office.
That was after her altercation with Agnes, the cook. When Blythe went into the kitchen, she was soundly rebuked and shooed out very rudely by Agnes.
“And you’ll stay out until I call ya. Don’t you dare come back in here unless you’re missing my spoon and a sore rump.” She waved that damnable spoon in her face. Blythe swore she wanted to snatch it from her hand and throw it down the hall. Instead, Blythe turned on her heel, muttering under her breath about bitches and menopause and being too old to work in the kitchen anymore.
“Maybe if I paddle your wee ass now, you won’t mutter under your breath but will be screaming what’s on your tongue. Should we try?” The cook flung the door open and started coming down the hall after Blythe.
Taking off on a dead run, Blythe shouted over her shoulder, “You must be hearing things. I’m not saying a word! I’ll go sit in the den.”
She’d been in the quiet room for over an hour, and it seemed that more bustle than normal occurred, but what did she know? This house befuddled her many days.
It had been three weeks since the women had gotten together and she was missing them already. She’d hoped that they would get together soon, and was almost afraid to ask Xan for fear that it would dredge up uncomfortable memories and concerns on both their parts.
Blythe only put her book down only for a moment to rest her eyes, but apparently had fallen asleep because she woke as Xan was picking her book off the floor. “Tired, baby girl?”
“Yeah, I guess. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. What time is it?”
Xan looked at his pocket communicator. “It’s almost three o’clock. I’ll get us a cup of coffee to help you wake up.”
Before she could stop him, he left on his mission. He came back a short time later with a steaming mug of coffee made the way she liked it, and one for himself. He situated himself next to her, rubbing her leg affectionately as he sipped the hot fluid.
“We have some guests coming soon.” He peeked at her over the mug, his eyes crinkled at the corners, full of mischief.
“Who?”
“You’ll see.” He set the mug down on the nearby table, doing his best to act nonchalant.
“Why are you being so mysterious?”
“Who? Me? I’m not mysterious at all. I’m just refraining from divulging any information.”
She furrowed her eyebrows at him, hating secrets, and he knew it. “You love the power, don’t you?”
“As a matter fact, I do.” He winked at her good naturedly.
It was then that the alert signal went off, informing them that someone had landed in the yard. She started to get up, knowing that they usually went to the windows and then the door to greet their guests, only to have him keep her seated on the couch.
“We’ll wait until Billex alerts us.”
She narrowed her gaze at him. “You’re being particularly strange today.”
“I don’t think you’re allowed to speak to me that way, pet.”
She didn’t pursue talking to him further. Instead, she smartly watched him.
What does he have up his sleeve?
A firm knock that was in the familiar rhythm used by Billex had them both rising.
Pointing at the couch, Xan ordered, “Sit and close your eyes.”
“Why are you—”
“Do it.” He used the voice that bridged no disobedience, so she quickly sat, covering her eyes with her hands.
His footsteps walked toward the door, and he said, “No peeking.”
A few whispered shushes and the rustling of clothing and footsteps was all she heard.
“Okay. Open them, Blythe.”
The first thing she saw was a cart with a huge pink cake with booties and chubby babies on the top, and a beaming Ganza smiling down at her saying, “Congratulations, sweet girl.”
* * *
Xan watched Blythe pull her hands down, and she saw not only all her friends but their Masters as well. Everyone had beautifully wrapped packages with them, and reiltas.
Brinley laughed, “I can see it on your face. I looked the same way, they’re called…” Looking at Rowth, they said it in unison. “They’re called reiltas. They’re a cross between a balloon and piñata, I guess. They’re filled with besloor; Xan says they’re your favorite treats and that you’ve been spanked for sneaking them.”
Blythe giggled, rubbing Xan’s arm. “Yes, he’s right. And I have been spanked for sneaking them.”
Jakk turned to Gav’n and said, “We need to try giving Mira some of these; maybe she’ll like them.”
Mira crinkled her nose up and said, “I kinda doubt it but we can try. I swear there’s nothing I enjoy eating here.”
“Daddy, can I get up?”
“Yes, you may, of course, pet.” Xan rose with her, holding her hand. That was until she yanked it away, screaming and running toward her friends who all hugged and giggled in a huddle. All the Pra’kirean men stood watching their alien women. Xan could tell by their looks of amazement that they were thinking like he.
What in the name of Na
is this craziness?
Unclear on how to respond or what to do with all the talking, laughing and tears, Xan started gathering the wrapped packages and placing them on a table near the couch for Blythe to open later. Once coats were hung up and the men were stood in awe of the womanly chaos, Rowth decided enough was enough.
“Ladies. Ladies.” He cleared his throat and deepened his voice. “Enough!”
Everyone stopped talking and they stared at him confused, heads tilted gawping at him.
“Sorry.” He blushed a bit and looked a bit sheepish to Xan, and he almost chuckled out loud but decided it would ruin whatever dominance he was trying to exert with the cackling. “It’s time we sat down and let Blythe open her presents.”
The men motioned to chairs that had been set up during their conversation. The women would be seated in a semi-circle with a clear view of the festivities.
“When you’re done with the presents, we’ll have some cake and finger foods. I know, I know, most of you don’t like our food, but we are trying to make it more palatable for you. We’re hoping you’ll be pleased with some of the offerings.”
Xan then stood up. “We men will leave and let you women enjoy the baby presents, cake… and, well…to be yourselves. Just behave.”
“Thank you, Master.” Blythe stood up with tears streaming down her cheeks and embraced him tightly. “You’re the best Daddy around.”
The women all murmured “Awwwww.” Which did nothing to improve his harsh Master and Owner status in front of his peers, but he didn’t care at that point. The happiness and joy on his girl’s face made up for every bit of ribbing he knew he’d receive from the men.
“You have fun, pet.” He kissed her on the forehead and patted her ass, quirking an eyebrow at her hoping she’d heed his warning.
Brinley laughed and said, “Oooooooo, you’re in trouble.”
Rowth pointed a finger at her before he followed all the men out. “That goes for you too, Brinley. You know how punishments go around here. I’d stay on the straight and narrow if I were you.”
Xan had to chuckle when he saw Brinley stiffen and squirm in her chair, her face blushing. He didn’t anticipate any trouble from the women…today. They would have fun with all the baby clothes and toys, eating cake and laughing. It would be later down the road a bit that he’d have to worry about that.
Chapter Twenty
Blythe folded the little infant sleepers, white ones with animals. Xan said were similar to what they called “ducks” on Earth. They swam along the surface of the water on Pra’kir and were red with blue markings. And to be honest, they were adorable on the little sleeper.
She’d been given dresses in pink and lavender that were too adorable. Rowth and Brinley had a little mini robe made for her like the ones the judges wore on the council. She’d washed them all and folded them neatly into Tegan’s dresser drawers. Tiny socks and leggings with small white and pink sweaters to keep their baby girl warm.
Another drawer was full of blankets, soft and fuzzy. Her arms ached for their baby. Xan assured her that it was any day now and he’d let her know ahead of time so she could prepare mentally and emotionally for their bundle of joy.
Tegan opened her eyes, staring at them when they came to visit. Her little hand would clasp their fingers, especially Blythe’s because they were so slender. More and more she looked like her father, and it filled Blythe’s heart with pride to know that she’d given him a daughter, a child that looked like him in almost every way except eye color—she wasn’t born with his black eyes, Tegan’s eyes were a crystal blue.
Xan’s heavy footfalls were heard coming up the stairs. She looked at the clock; it was time for her to service him and for their milk training.
“Look how sweet these little things are.” His huge hands pulled up one of the pale pink sleepers with little white bows on the bottom. It was smaller than his whole hand.
Blythe said anxiously, “She’ll be here soon. I need to be ready, and there’s so much to do. Or it feels like there’s still so much to do.” She looked around the room not feeling like it was perfect enough.
Xan looked around too, his eyebrows furrowing. “The room is all set; we finished it just last week. The chair is up, the crib is set, the sheets and bumpers are in, and all the rugs are on the floor. What else is there to do?”
She looked around the room and she knew he was right. The room was done. There was no more work to be finished, especially since she had finished washing all the baby clothes.
But something felt off.
“I don’t know. I just…do you think I’m ready? I mean, my mother used to say some people aren’t meant to have children. What if I’m one of those women?” Her heart raced and it became difficult to swallow past the lump in her throat. Fighting it, she tried not to cry, but the tears filled her eyes.
“Oh, baby. Come here.” Xan pulled her onto his lap, enveloping her into his chest, wrapping those huge arms around her, and she swore she never felt safer than when she was held like this.
The tears flowed easily at that point, and she couldn’t keep the small sobs from escaping. He murmured sweet nothings in her ear, petting and stroking her. “Daddy’s got you. You’re such a good Mommy already. You’re the sweetest person I know…a little stubborn and mischievous, but sweet.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. She looked up at him, smiling through her tears.
He winked at her. “Now you listen to me. Are you listening?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You’ve already exhibited more love and caring for our baby girl than any women I know on Pra’kir. Your maternal instincts are strong and you’ve even produced milk to feed your baby.” He pinched her chin between his fingers. “You will not be allowed to talk like this again. This was your only chance to do it and walk away without a blistered behind. Am I clear enough on this?”
She nodded, having no doubt that he meant every word. Having his approval buoyed her immeasurably. “Yes, Sir.”
“Better?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Kneel.” He helped her scooch off his lap onto the floor.
She kept her eyes on him, waiting for direction. He undid his pants, his bulbous, hard cock jerking free of the confines of his pants, the tip quickly dripping with his semen. Stroking the silky length, his gaze bore into her. She did not doubt that he knew the very act of caressing his cock had her sex dripping with arousal.
“Stroke your clit, pet.”
Reaching down, she circled the hardened nub, her juices plentiful, and she dipped into the well of her sex, rewetting her finger and gliding it along the sensitive flesh. Her hips flexed, her womb spasming with her arousal. Closing her eyes, she rubbed her clit, sliding her finger along the left side of her labia where her sexual tension peaked. The increased rhythm of strokes in that area had her gasping.
Blythe knew to not orgasm without his permission. He loved to edge her for extended periods of time, watching her become frantic with what she perceived as her inability to hold it back any longer.
Damn him!
“Your chest is all pink, girl, and your juices are dripping onto the floor.” His breath had also increased, which was a good sign for her as it meant he would be asking her to mount him or give him oral; she could only hope that he’d let her come as well. He liked keeping her frustrated knowing that when she finally was given permission, she would fly apart wildly and magnificently, unable to restrain her body’s movement or her screams of ecstasy.
“I need…I need to come, Master.”
“It’s too soon, pet.”
She didn’t know if it was the hormones racing through her body with the milk production, or if she’d been too aroused, but she stiffened, thrusting three of her fingers deep into her pussy. She screamed with her orgasm, her hips jerking wildly and her own come sluicing over her finger. It was then that she felt what had become a familiar tingle in her nipples, a burning warmth spreading like a fever over her breasts. She
opened her eyes in time to see both breasts spurting milk, drenching Xan with the white fluid. With every spasm of her sex, the milk jetted out, discharging in steady squirts with the contractions.
“Oh…oh fuck!”
“No kidding!” Xan shook his head laughing. “I’m not even mad. I’m just…impressed.”
She laughed because it was a quote from one of her favorite movies on Earth but knew he had no idea. And then, feeling a bit ashamed of the spontaneous flow of milk, Blythe covered the globes with her hands, pressing them hard to stop the flow. But she also knew that she’d come without permission, which was a pretty huge infraction in Xan’s house.
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“You came without permission.” He furrowed his eyebrows at her.
Blythe held her breath wondering what this meant for her ass this morning. But when she saw the end of his mouth kicked up a little, she knew it would be okay.
“We’ll let it go this time. Come up here, bad girl, it’s time to let me come too, but I’m not going to be gentle.”
Blythe smiled back, “Good.”
She climbed up onto his lap, guiding the huge cock into her slick entrance, the length of him hitting the top of her cervix, eliciting a gasp, closing her eyes with the tingling sensations of her sex to the fullness of him.
He rode her hard and fast, jostling her up and down his cock, the heavy globes of her ass bouncing with his fierce and reckless abandon. His finger bit into her fleshy hips and pinched the meaty area hard enough that she had no doubt she’d have bruises the next day.
Her arousal, not quite abated from her orgasm, ratcheted up incrementally and she knew that she’d come again with him. She dug her fingernails into his muscled shoulders and biceps. Her bottom bounced on his thighs with every thrust.
He pounded and pistoned into her, unrestrained until he shouted, “Come, girl.” They both shouted with their release, her sex squeezing him in a vice-like hold, the walls of her cervix shivering and convulsing around the girth of him, his hot seed spurting into her.
A Baby for Pra'kir (Captives of Pra'kir Book 6) Page 13
