[Zandian Mast 01.0] His Human Slave

by Renee Rose

“Hush.” He picked up one of her curls and twirled it around a finger.

  For once, she did as he asked and stopped speaking. After all the shock of the past few days, being held by him eased the strain. No, it more than eased the strain—it felt incredible. She didn’t want to say or do anything to bring it to a close.

  Zander seemed softened by sex, his features relaxed, his touch gentle. He traced one of her eyebrows with the pad of his finger, measured the size of her ear with his digits, and compared it to his own, as if fascinated by her. He slid her upper body off onto the bed, keeping her pelvis in his lap with her legs in the air, and explored the intimate folds of her sex. His horns thickened, and they leaned toward her.

  This time, she didn’t mind the scientific curiosity, as Zander parted her lips and, once more, found her clit. He didn’t seem intent on arousing her. Instead, his touch was exploratory. He brushed her clit with a feather-like touch, fingered her labia.

  It brought her pleasure, but not in a needy way, like before. This time, she found it profoundly relaxing. Her eyes drifted closed and she floated away as Zander continued his light caresses and explored every part of her.

  Being his slave might have some perks. No, she shouldn’t think this way. Guilt stabbed her conscience. She couldn’t be happy here with her mother all alone at the agrifarm.

  ~.~

  Zander couldn’t believe how delicate her parts were compared to his. Sweet little ears, a button nose, the light dusting of coppery freckles across her glowing skin. Her flesh was so soft, and he loved the way she smelled—like fresh, delicious female mixed with his own scent.

  He rubbed his horns along her inner thighs and her flat belly, nudged them against her clitoris. He held her for far longer than he should—he had twenty other things to do—but the more relaxed and contented she appeared to grow in his arms, the less he wanted to put her down. But Daneth had said thirty minutes and it had already been forty-five. He eased her down onto the bed and extricated himself.

  “I have work to do. You are free to rest.”

  She gave him a slow blink, as if she’d drifted far away, and it took her a moment to understand him. Then she sat up, propped on one hand, and watched him as he resumed his position at his work wall. He flipped on the latest charts from his trades that day.

  “My lord?”

  He gritted his teeth at the interruption. “What?”

  “May I use the washroom?”

  “You don’t have to ask me things like that,” he snapped, but instantly regretted it, because the peace slid away from her expression, replaced with that familiar look of stubborn pride.

  She lifted her chin. “Forgive me for trying to learn my place.”

  Another lie. Humans called it something. That’s right, sarcasm. He turned back to his work again and she went to the washroom.

  It occurred to him that she might be rinsing out his seed. Was that possible? He certainly wouldn’t put it past the deceitful little human.

  When she returned, he beckoned her to him. “Come, Lamira.”

  She hesitated but pleased him by obeying.

  He’d intended to be stern and stand her before him for questioning, but his hands reached of their own accord and pulled her onto his lap.

  Well.

  He did like the feel of her on his thighs. So light and soft in his arms. So easy to control. He enjoyed the weight of her, small and helpless, yielding, for now. His.

  It gave him a good vantage point for studying her face while reminding her who she belonged to.

  “Lamira, you will not be permitted to wash out my seed.”

  She blinked at him. He didn’t know her well enough yet to know if it was faked, or not. “You think I washed out your seed?” Her lip curled a little and he saw the flash of anger in her face.

  Her bare breasts were so close to him, he forgot himself and palmed one.

  He expected her to fight him—to wince and twist away, but confusion flitted across her face and, to his surprise, she rocked on his lap, arching her breast into his hand, as if she liked his touch.

  “I would punish you if you did.” His voice sounded deeper than usual. His wristband flashed something at him—her readouts.

  Forty percent arousal.

  In truth? From what? The breast squeeze?

  He slid his hand between her knees, stroking up her inner thigh.

  Her breath quickened.

  He reached her pussy, still swollen from their breeding. With his middle finger, he stroked along her slit, prodding at the opening.

  Sixty percent aroused.

  “Did you?” His voice definitely sounded hoarse.

  She flinched when he entered her, but the mewl from her lips sounded wanton.

  “Are you sore?”

  “Yes...a little. But I...don’t mind it.”

  The shock of her admission flamed his passion, which had already renewed in full force. But he couldn’t breed with the little human again. She’d just told him she was sore.

  “You don’t mind? But why did you kick me in the face, then?”

  She stiffened, and he wished he hadn’t brought it up, although he probably did owe her a more substantial punishment for it. Her full arousal during the spanking had redirected his attention at the time.

  She clenched her teeth. “I don’t wish to be inspected and bred like an animal. It’s humiliating to have Daneth watching while you—” Her eyes swam with tears.

  “I see.”

  For once, he believed her. She may be a slave, but she still had pride. He should not underestimate it. She’d found Daneth’s presence humiliating. Perhaps that was why she hated to go with him—not because he’d hurt her, but because he embarrassed her.

  He slid his finger inside her, not to be certain she hadn’t washed—he believed she hadn’t—but because he wanted to feel her wet heat all over again. It had only been an hour since he’d had her, but he wanted her again.

  She gasped and clutched at his shirt with her bound hands.

  Eighty-three percent aroused.

  “You are my breeder,” he said, pushing his finger all the way inside her, pumping it a few times. “If my physician needs to be present to monitor things, you will have to adjust.”

  He added a second finger.

  Eighty-nine percent aroused.

  “Or you’ll be punished.”

  Ninety-four percent aroused.

  Had the threat of punishment bumped up her arousal rate? She’d become 100 percent aroused during her spanking earlier.

  “Why does punishment arouse you?”

  Her tissues literally plumped against his fingers, growing more swollen and slick,

  One hundred percent aroused.

  She rocked her pelvis to meet his thrusting fingers. Her head fell back and to the side, her lovely copper hair falling across her bare shoulder and breast.

  “It doesn’t.”

  Another lie.

  He picked her up by the waist and spun her around to face away from him, her legs wide and hooked outside his knees. He delivered a sharp slap to her pussy.

  The fully aroused message blinked in red in his left peripheral vision.

  He slapped her again. “I’ve lost all patience with your lies.”

  “Oh because you were full of patience before.”

  Her words gave him pause, because they were not true, and then he recognized them as the annoying human communication habit—sarcasm.

  He slapped harder.

  She cried out and covered her mons with both bound hands.

  He picked up her wrists and clipped them together behind his head, which had the pleasing effect of lifting her breasts. He squeezed both her nipples at the same time, pinching hard enough to make her squirm.

  He shouldn’t enjoy hurting her. Except it excited her, too. Her nipples were hard as little pebbles; the scent of her fresh arousal filled the room. With the fingers of one hand, he continued pinching and rolling her nipple, while the digits of the other o
nce more sought her hot core.

  This time, when they penetrated her, there was no mistaking the wanton tone in her moan.

  “Do I need to breed you again to teach you who you belong to?”

  She bowed up, arching her pelvis and rocking his fingers into her tight channel.

  Fully aroused kept blinking.

  Veck it. She deserved a little more pain.

  He deserved a little more pleasure for putting up with such a naughty slave.

  He reached between their bodies to free his length, lifted her hips, and speared her with his malehood.

  “Oh.” Just one syllable, but the little cry nearly drove him wild.

  He mastered her easily, lifting and lowering her onto his shaft, marveling at the way her perky breasts bobbed up and down with the movement.

  “Is this what you need, my naughty little slave?”

  “Ohh...”

  Her hands were still trapped behind his head and she used them now, gripping his head and leveraging her hips over his cock.

  She felt so good, her tight wet pussy squeezing his cock like a glove. He didn’t want it ever to end. But his little human was sore. Plus, the need to drive into her more deeply gripped him. He lifted her from his lap and carried her to the sleep disk, tossing her onto her back.

  He shoved his pants off. To his surprise, when he crawled over her, she brought her bound hands to the hem of his shirt, tugging it up over his abs. He helped her, flinging his shirt off.

  She spread her knees for him when he crawled up, and her surrender nearly took his breath away. Her long coppery waves fanned out around her face, the striking green eyes flashed dark with desire.

  Desire? Truly? From his little human?

  His own lust spiked even higher and he had to hold back to keep from tearing her apart.

  Fragile human.

  He forced his breath to slow, somehow kept from shoving into her with all the force he wanted to unleash.

  She winced and he almost stopped, but her legs wrapped around his back and she pulled him in closer.

  She wanted it this time.

  His beautiful little human slave.

  He pumped into her with measured strokes, holding back with great effort.

  Her eyes rolled back, she arched underneath him. “My lord…” she moaned.

  All moons of Zander, she shattered his control. He drove deep, angling for the pleasure place Daneth had described. Her channel practically gushed moisture, the slickness allowing him to plow even deeper, stretching her wide to take his girth.

  She moaned and rolled her head, her bound hands reaching for him.

  He forced them over her head and pinned them there as he rode her. Rational thought left him. A primitive, driving force took over. He found a hard, pounding rhythm, and she matched it, lifting her hips to receive him on each instroke.

  Little cries left her lips. He’d never seen anything so beautiful. He bent his head and bit her shoulder, her neck, her ear, all the while sawing in and out of her with vicious thrusts.

  “Zander…”

  The sound of his name on her lips made him bury himself deep inside her and come—hot ribbons of his seed filling her channel a second time.

  Too late, he remembered to watch and wait for her orgasm, but it didn’t matter because the squeezing of her muscles told him she’d reached it before his eyes found the readouts.

  Her climax was vecking glorious. Her mouth opened into a perfect O, her breasts thrust up as she arched, lifting her bottom to meet him, pushing back with more strength than he’d thought she possessed. When it passed, she collapsed, suddenly limp. Her cheeks were flushed a charming shade of pink, her eyes bright and glassy. She panted to regain her breath.

  Yes, he could see the appeal of a human slave. He hadn’t understood it before, but now, with one glistening underneath him, he saw what he’d been missing. He would have to be careful she didn’t become too big a distraction. And stay on his toes, because he couldn’t trust anything that came out of her mouth.

  ~.~

  For the second time, Zander settled on the sleeping platform. He scooted the lower half of her over his lap, to raise her hips, her legs lifted up along his torso. She hadn’t expected him to breed her again. Hadn’t expected her own reaction to it. Her body had responded to the Zandian prince as if it belonged to someone else’s brain. From the moment he pulled her onto his lap, flames of desire had licked her into a frenzy.

  And veck, yes. He had delivered. He’d found all her pleasure zones. He’d been rough—too rough. She’d be sore in more than one place, but she didn’t mind one bit. The euphoria flowing through her now made her wonder what her objection to being Zander’s sex slave had been in the first place. Apart from missing her mother, her life had improved five hundred times over.

  Zander stroked his large palm down her thigh, his touch light as a caress. He bent his head and rubbed her calf with one of his horns. It tickled.

  “You are lovely.”

  He put the emphasis on are, as if someone—like himself—had argued she wasn’t.

  She decided staying silent was best, since there was no good answer to a backwards compliment like that.

  “You were a good little slave, taking my cock again so soon.”

  His words should not affect her the way they did, but as if he’d spoken some tremendous endearment, warmth swirled in her chest, turning her insides gooey with a desire to please. To please? That wasn’t her. That had never been her.

  Of course, she’d never had sex before—particularly not with a hot Zandian.

  He brought his thumb to her slit and stroked straight up to her clitoris again, rubbing lightly. “A good little slave to orgasm as soon as I finish.”

  Frissons of heat traveled down her inner thighs, incited by his touch. Her belly quivered. “Please no more,” she whimpered, not because it hurt, but because she didn’t think she could take any more orgasms. It was all too intense.

  “I won’t,” he murmured.

  He thought she meant no more breeding. He continued to stroke her.

  Her heart rate, which had finally slowed after her climax, now climbed in speed again. “Zander,” she choked.

  His eyes flicked to his cuff and something he saw there explained her predicament. “Ah.” His lips curled into a satisfied smile. “I see. My touch has excited you again.” His thumb stopped moving but remained on her stiffened bud.

  “How many times can a human female orgasm?” It sounded more like rhetorical musing than a real question.

  “No.” She shook her head. “No more, please.”

  He flashed a wicked grin. “No more breeding. Just another orgasm. To pull my seed up higher.”

  She struggled to comprehend his meaning. Before she arrived at any possible conclusion, he palmed her ass with both hands and lifted, bringing her pussy right to his mouth.

  She shrieked when his tongue licked into her—more from the shock of pleasure than from any real resistance.

  He sucked her pleasure center, licked along the insides of her labia, penetrated her with his tongue.

  Her face grew hot, her breath short. She clamped her knees around his ears. When one of her calves brushed his horn, he groaned.

  Were they sensitive?

  She deliberately rubbed both horns with her lower legs.

  His fingers dug into her ass; his tongue lashed her pussy, He pulled her up and down over his mouth.

  A scream rose in her throat.

  She kicked and thrashed with her legs—not to push him away, only desperate for relief.

  He shifted one of his hands under her ass, bringing his thumb to her anus.

  She came, hard, bucking in his hands, as he wrung a third orgasm out of her.

  “Good girl,” he murmured.

  Once more, the praise warmed her.

  He eased her back down to his lap and pushed her knees open like butterfly wings. “Show me this little pussy of yours. I’m beginning to grow quite fond of it
.”

  Her head swam. No, those were not words to swoon over.

  He pulled the cheeks of her ass apart and inspected her anus. “I’m going to take you there, too. It will hurt, I suppose, because you’re so tiny. I’ll reserve it for punishment.”

  Her pussy clenched and he noticed.

  “You like when I talk about punishment.”

  She shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

  He flashed the cuff in her direction. “I have proof. And that’s another lie. I’m going to start punishing you for lies. Perhaps your first punishment will be me taking your ass.”

  Her mouth went dry. She attempted to squeeze her bottom together, but it was impossible with him holding her cheeks spread wide. “No, my lord, Please.”

  His lips curved into a smile; his eyes grew heavy-lidded. “Not this time. But you’ve been warned.”

  Her pussy clenched again.

  Mother Earth, her core should not be a quivering, bundle of heated nerves right now. Why did his threats affect her that way?

  He sighed. “All right, little slave. You’ve taken me from my work all day. Now it’s time for me to put you to work.”

  “I thought this was my work.”

  His mouth stretched into a toothy smile. “You’re right, it is. But now you’re going to make me your list of supplies for the plants you want to grow here. I’ll have them delivered tomorrow.”

  He lifted her from his lap and crawled off the platform, pulling his clothes back on.

  Hooking a finger in the ring in her collar, he tugged gently, forcing her to crawl to the edge. “Come.” He lifted her off the sleeping platform and onto her feet. Using the collar once more, he led her to his work station and pointed at his feet. “Kneel.”

  A 3D hologram popped up with a picture of a memo pad and a pen.

  She’d never used the technology before—communications and information systems were forbidden to slaves. The very fact she could read was a secret she kept as hidden as her claircognizance. But Zander didn’t seem to know it was forbidden, and her pride kept her from playing dumb. She reached for the virtual pen and twirled it in the air, watching as the letters scrawled on the pad.

  As she built her list, her spirits rose. But she shouldn’t be happy about being an alien’s sex slave. Her father would roll over in his grave. He didn’t die trying to liberate humans to have his daughter drop to her knees and happily serve the first master who gave her an orgasm.