by Renee Rose
Her pussy clenched at the same time something twisted in her solar plexus. Desire in conflict with pride. Fear smeared around and between both. She almost wanted to give herself over to him, to let him punish and care for her.
Almost.
“Will I be allowed to see Lamira?”
“After your initial training, yes. Keeping you from her will be used as a punishment only—for both of you.”
If this training was her fate, she wondered what punishment her daughter had met at her mate’s hands. He’d be careful with her because she carried his young. Even without the pregnancy, he’d be fair, though. She’d seen his love for Lamira.
Seke pushed her to her feet. “Release cuffs.” The wrist cuffs sprang apart. “Remove your clothing. Being naked before me is part of your training.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why? I thought I was not to be used for breeding or sex.”
He landed a swat on the back of her thigh. “I will tolerate your questions today because you are adjusting to the change in our relationship. In the future, I expect obedience without question. The reason I require you naked is to humble you.”
Again, something twisted in her solar plexus and anger flashed. Her hands free, she lunged for his face, fingers curled into claws, aiming for his eyes.
He caught her wrists, and one of his feet pushed the backs of her knees so she plunged forward. Her strangled cry morphed into a groan as her knees hit the finely woven rug at his feet.
Seke’s expression hadn’t changed—his eyes glowed purple, but his face remained an inscrutable mask. He lifted her twisting hands to his face and stroked his cheek with them. She could have clawed his skin, could have inflicted that small wound, but her fascination with his action made her go quiet.
What was he doing?
“These hands,” he murmured, still rubbing her fingers over his cheek, across his open mouth.
Was it her imagination, or had his horns stiffened and changed their angle—leaning toward her?
“These hands will learn to serve.”
Enraged, she tried to pull them away, but while his grip wasn’t harsh, his strength made it impossible. The next time he dragged her fingers across his mouth, he bit down—not hard—more sensually. Her eyes flew wide, heart stilled as she froze, staring up at him.
Shock danced over his features, as if he hadn’t meant to nip her. His blue-violet eyes locked on hers, and time stopped. The room spun. Desire throbbed between her legs as insistently as her bottom burned.
And then Seke released her. Suddenly. Violently. He tossed her hands down so hard they bounced in her lap, and he stood, lifting one leg over her head. He moved away from her, toward the door, where he stopped and folded his arms over his massive chest, turning back.
“Stand. Disrobe. I am losing patience.” His tone was much colder now—so unlike his usual courtesy, it wounded. And yet it made it easier to obey. This was a nameless, faceless master. Not her Seke. Just one of the hundreds of masters she’d had in her lifetime as a slave.
She clenched her teeth as she stood and pulled off her white robes, slid out of her tangled underpants, then stood facing him, hands neatly folded behind her back. She didn’t lower her eyes, though. They both knew her submission wasn’t genuine.
Something flickered behind his eyes. Pain or regret. He looked sickened, yet nothing in his expression had changed. Somehow, she read it, though. Perhaps it was the hint of instinct she had—that fraction of the psychic ability her youngest daughter possessed in spades.
His throat worked to swallow. He scrubbed a hand over his face then cleared his throat. “You will obey me.”
She lifted her chest. “Yes, master.”
2
Yes, master.
He hadn’t expected to enjoy hearing those words on her lips quite so much. The throb in his thickened cock from seeing her naked did not come as a surprise, however. He’d known she would be a terrible temptation.
She was even more beautiful than he’d imagined. Though her body was still too thin from her enslavement at the agrifarm, her breasts bounced, ripe and lush, the peach-tipped nipples standing alert. Her arms and legs were lean, muscled, and her hips flared below the slender waist. Her skin—like many humans’—was peachy pink in tone. Delicate and fresh. Her scent clung to his clothing. He wanted to snatch her up and breathe it in again, to touch the softness of her flesh.
He had enjoyed spanking her—stars, he had enjoyed it. He wouldn’t like giving the serious punishment he owed her for the prince’s displeasure, but punishing her over his lap with the flat of his hand had been a delight. The way her muscular buttocks flattened and sprang back under his hand, the way her tender skin blushed pink, the sounds she’d made. Yes, he enjoyed chastising her that way.
But he couldn’t take her. No matter how tempting this lovely human was, he would master his urges. A master at arms had self-discipline, if nothing else.
And so her training had to begin. He stepped to his workstation and settled in a hoverseat. “Kneel at my feet, Leora.”
She hesitated just long enough to register her protest but came before he issued any threat. Her knees cracked as she sank to the floor by his feet. He resisted the urge to bury his fingers in her coppery waves, to stroke the slender column of her neck. The reality of her belonging to him had begun to settle in, and with it, crept a heady sense of power, excitement at the possibilities.
No. He had to steel himself against the temptation she presented. He served the prince and his memory of Becka, not his cock aching for her lush lips to close around it....
Wrenching his attention back to business, he flicked open the first hologram blinking on his wrist cuff.
Lundric, his chief of security, sprang out of the cuff, his head hovering in the room.
“Master Seke.” He inclined his head to show respect.
“Report, Lundric.”
“I’ve arrived. Supplies and crafts have been delivered.”
Zander had sent Lundric to the uninhabitable planet Shooku where the Ocretion death pod carrying Leora’s daughter Lily had crash-landed. After rescuing Lily and two hundred other humans from their death sentence, Lily and her Zandian mate, Rok, had somehow convinced Zander to take responsibility for all the humans, training them to be the army he needed badly to take back Zandia.
The past planet rotation had been a nightmare of coordination—setting up full cloaking of the death pod and sending out false reports of its destruction via a meteor to throw off the Ocretions.
“Is everything in order there?” He half expected to hear Rok and Lily had disappeared again. After all, Rok may have been a Zandian, but he wasn’t aligned with them. He’d been raised on Stornig and had been a smuggler and rogue pilot for most of his life after escaping Zandia’s invasion.
“Yes, master. Many of the humans still appear in shock, but Rok and his mate have things under control.”
“Ask Rok to contact me. I told him I want a daily report.”
Lundric inclined his head.
“You will stay to serve Rok but also to report directly to me. Understand?”
Again, Lundric bowed.
“Thank you. Disconnecting.” He closed the hologram, and Lundric’s head disappeared.
Leora shifted her weight over one heel then the other.
“Are you uncomfortable, little slave?”
She lifted her green eyes with a baleful glare but modulated her voice into respectful tones. “My knees are too old to kneel this way...master.”
Studying battle arts for most of his life had given Seke an excellent appreciation for body mechanics. He pushed off the hoverseat and crouched beside his slave. “Kneel up.” He lifted her until she lifted her naked bottom away from her heels. He stabilized her with an arm around her waist and gripped one of her heels, testing how freely it swung right and left. He repeated the action with her second heel. They didn’t swivel freely.
It took all his concentration to ignore Leora’s quickened
breaths, the scent of her arousal, the softness of her belly against his arm. She required his care now, not his lust. He nudged her fibula toward the outside of her calves, following the slender bone from her ankle up toward the back of her knee, then back down again until it moved freely. He did the same with the other leg then retested the swivel of her heels and found them easier to move.
With the arm at her waist, he guided her back down to sit. “Better?”
Surprise flitted over her face. “Yes, actually.” A blush colored her cheeks. “Thank you. Master.”
He nodded once. “Masters take care of their slave’s needs,” he reminded her. “When you’re in discomfort, I want to know.” He cupped her chin. “If I give you pain, it should be purposeful.”
Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, he thought she would fight him again, but she clamped her lips shut, chin lifted.
“You may sit on your heels, on your hands and knees, or forearms and knees. I grant you permission to change positions as necessary. You may also lie prostrate over my lap.”
“Only humiliating positions.” Her voice sounded tight, and it pained him because she was right.
“It’s part of the training, little human. You learn your place in relation to me. Once that is established, you will be granted more freedom.”
He’d learned humility as a young student of the battle arts. Had knelt at his master’s feet. Had endured physical discomfort and endless tests designed to strip him of pride. Warriors were disciplined, honorable. He had trained Lundric and even Prince Zander this way—though with more respect as befit his station. He knew how to train pupils and didn’t believe what he required of Leora to be too cruel.
But the hurt on her face slayed him. Literally slashed across his chest like the wound from a sword blade.
He supposed the worst of it for her was the shift in their relationship. He’d shown her only respect in the past. Now he debased her. But she would learn, like Prince Zander had, the context of their different roles. In the battle arts studio, Seke was master to Zander. Outside of it, Zander ruled him, as he ruled all the Zandians and would rule their planet, when he retook it. Yet training Zander had been important. Their young ruler had to be an able and capable warrior if he was to lead their species to recover their rightful place in the galaxy.
Once Leora had learned submission, once Zander was satisfied with her training, she would be free to roam the palatial pod at will, and he would treat her with the deference her gender and beauty called forth.
His cuff lit up with another incoming hologram, and he launched it. Rok’s head sprang into the air.
“Master Seke.” Rok inclined his head slightly. Not raised with other Zandians, he lacked the reverence and understanding of the workings of their culture, but he’d proven himself extremely battle-ready and capable of great leadership. Lamira’s psychic vision had predicted he would lead the army necessary to take back Zandia. “The supplies and ships have arrived. We have sorted the beings into groups related to skill and interest. There are at least a dozen who require medical care. Can you lend a doctor?”
Lily appeared behind Rok, as breathtakingly beautiful as her mother and sister. “There are fifteen in all. We require antibiotics and bandages at the very least,” she said.
Leora, hearing her daughter’s voice, lurched up from her knees to see, but he pressed her back down, modulating his strength so he didn’t injure her, but using enough force that she couldn’t resist.
“I wish to see my—” she spluttered, clawing at the hand on her shoulder, her nails sinking into his flesh. She twisted and bit him, her teeth tearing through his skin and drawing blood.
He didn’t release his iron grip on her shoulder. “I will have them sent immediately.” He flicked the hologram off before more of Leora’s struggles could be seen and heard on the other end. Without even looking at his wound or wiping the blood off, he swiveled in his chair and lifted her across his knees.
“Stop it, you overbearing oaf!” She kicked and struggled, her anger unchecked.
He didn’t mind her rebellion. After a life of servitude, she knew better than to resist a master. The fact she did, showed she trusted him enough to reveal her emotions. He clicked her wrist cuffs together behind her back. He didn’t spank her. The moment seemed to beg for something different. First, he needed her to understand. In the future, she would learn to trust his judgment, not requiring explanations.
“Did you wish your daughter and her mate to see you this way? Naked and collared? In my chamber at my feet?”
Leora stilled, panting.
He slapped her ass and made his voice sharp. “Did you?”
“No, master.” The sullenness was adorable. He loved all her resistance only because it told him she felt safe enough to rebel. He’d seen her interact in the palatial pod. She had self-control. Intelligence. Reserve. So her anger with him felt personal. Precious.
Or maybe it was just his own ego wanting to believe they’d shared some spark.
“So when I keep you from appearing in a hologram and revealing yourself, it is for your protection. I am your master. I make the decisions about what’s best for you. Do I not?”
She sagged over his legs, more defeated than if he’d lit her bottom on fire again. “Yes, master.” Her voice came as little more than a whisper now. “I’m sorry,” she croaked. “I did not understand the technology—that I would be seen.”
Of course she didn’t. The agrifarm where Daneth had found her had been highly primitive. The slaves had dwelled in tents and worked with their bare fingers tending plants. When they’d seen holograms of them, she and Lamira had been covered in mud; possibly they did it themselves to hide their beauty from the guards.
He stroked her slender back. She’d just found Lily, who had been taken from Leora when she was three to be conditioned and trained for sex slavery, only to have her daughter take little interest in the family reunion—choosing instead to stay with Rok to train the humans. She still had to be hungry for any contact with the girl.
He lifted her to her feet. For the first time, she appeared subdued, her head bowed, the lovely copper waves falling in her face. With her wrists cuffed behind her, her breasts were pulled apart, showcasing their pert shape even more. His mouth watered because he longed to suck those pretty little nipples until they grew stiff and hard.
“Do not move.”
He stood from the hover chair and strode to the box of implements Daneth had brought for her punishments. He selected a butt plug with a bushy animal tail attached and coated it with lubricant from a pump bottle. Daneth had provided the implements and explanations of why they worked well for human females. He chose the animal tail because it would serve the purpose of humbling Leora without causing her pain.
Leora eyed it as he returned, but he doubted she understood what it was.
“You have displeased me, Leora. Lie back over my lap.”
To his delight, she went easily, accepting his discipline. He pried her butt cheeks open and worked the rounded tip of the plug against her anus.
She immediately seized up, squeezing her cheeks together, her back bowing, legs lifting in the air, her body stiffened over his knees.
He had to suppress a chuckle as he slapped the backs of her thighs three times each.
“Ow, you brute,” she spluttered.
“Leora.” He made his voice hard and firm, disapproval and disappointment lacing the words. “Open your bottom for your punishment. Now.”
“Wh-what is it?”
“A tail. If you are going to bite like an animal, you will be treated like a beast. The tail will remain in place until you’ve shown me you deserve to be treated as a human again.”
She whimpered but gradually, by degrees, relaxed her legs and bottom until she sagged over his lap.
He rubbed the tip over her anus once more. “Take a deep breath.”
She obeyed.
“Exhale.”
As she blew out her breath, h
e pushed the plug forward. She gasped and tried to clench again, but it was too late, and she must have realized clenching only hurt her rectal muscles because she immediately let go.
He eased the plug forward, going slowly as he stretched her wide to pass the largest part of the bulbous plug through.
She mewled, rubbing the toes of one foot against the other in agitation but otherwise remaining perfectly still for him. The plug sank into her, the largest part inside now, only the neck stretching her little ring of muscle. The bushy tail trailed down the back of her legs. It would not cause any damage, only discomfort, and probably quite a bit of arousal.
His cock jumped and lurched with excitement—it looked so beautiful, as if her ass had been begging for this adornment, which showed off her exquisite round curves.
“You will take your spanking with the tail in place, which should remind you who you belong to. Will you bite me again, little one?”
“No, master,” she said immediately.
He drew a breath, already dizzy with lust for her. But he, of all males, had self-control. He would complete her punishment without defiling the beautiful human. He lifted his palm and let it smack down on one cheek of her ass. The tail bounced fetchingly.
He bit back a groan and slapped the other cheek. Another bounce. His cock hardened and pressed insistently against her hip. She surely felt his desire for her. What would she think? Did it frighten her?
His heart pounding, he drew several steadying breaths. He’d have to get this spanking over with quickly. He already cursed his decision to keep her naked. How would he survive this training?
He paddled her, striking right side and left, fast and hard. Her hips bobbed on his lap, and the tail shook and quivered, bounced in her ass.
“Open your thighs.” His voice sounded raspy and hoarse.
She obeyed, inching her legs apart over his lap.
He slapped the undersides of her cheeks, the tender insides of her thighs, punishing her intimately and thoroughly while her fingertips danced on the floor.
