Azar's Prize

by Reese Gabriel

“Mmm…” He grunted. “I’m going to come so fucking hard. I’m going to give you as much primale seed as I can muster.”

  “God, yes. Shoot it inside me. All the way, hot and thick.” she acknowledged the genetic ability of all primales to control the amount and even the heat of their emissions.

  “There’s one thing more I want first, though. I want to hear you tell me…that you need to come.”

  Her insides twisted in reply. She squirmed, wanting to touch herself, him, everywhere at once. Sweat covered her, her nipples were on fire, her belly burned. It was agony. “Yes, Azar, I need to come. More than I’ve needed anything in my life.”

  “I know you do. But you can’t, can you?”

  “Not…without permission.”

  “Your body is mine,” he affirmed. “It obeys my commands.” And yet there was so much more. He sensed it. A spirit that would forever beg to play, to fight, to surrender and rise again. “In your eyes, I saw the burning fire. The unquenchable need. The wildness.”

  “Yes, Azar. You know me, like no one. I think you’ve always known me. Take me Azar. Oh, stars, tame me.”

  His fingers clenched in her hair, holding it tightly. Symbolically. Satisfyingly. “Surrender…”

  His command opened her still further and he immediately exploited the opportunity—penetrating, expanding, until she could feel him, almost as if he were in her pussy, after all.

  “Fuck…fuck me, Azar…Master…lover.”

  Azar’s pace quickened. It was like magic. She couldn’t explain how he was generating such speed, how she wasn’t splitting asunder under the man’s powerful assault. No doubt her own primale genetics helped, but her will must have had something to do with it.

  “Almost…there,” he said, his voice low and ragged.

  She could feel the heat. Primale heat. So much blood pounding in his cock. So much pent-up energy. “Mmmmaster…”

  One final thrust, in slow motion, the downward descent like the tripping of a trigger, the hammer slamming on metal, sparking old-fashioned gun powder.

  The first spurt of Azar’s semen shot deep into her anal canal, satisfying, rich and tantalizing. It was followed immediately by a second. And a third.

  How many would it be in all? It was pretty much up to Azar, being that he was primale. And a fantastically virile primale at that.

  “Oh, god, Theryssa, oh my fucking god.” He was surging with power, his muscles driving him onward and forward.

  “Give it to me,” she turned from abject slave to demanding female. “Give it all to me.”

  Azar shot several more times and then pulled himself out. He wasn’t done, though. Not quite yet. “I’m going to come on your ass,” he said, breathing heavily.

  He pushed a finger down on her clitoris.

  “Please,” she writhed, “may I…come?”

  “Yes,” he said fiercely, his warm thick jets already landing on her ass and back. “Do it. Come for me. Come now.”

  Theryssa did not need to be asked twice. The dam, held back by Azar’s will, burst with a singular spectacular rush. She was twisting her torso, reaching around to find him. He took her hand in one of his, squeezing tightly. The semen sprayed wildly as he let go of his cock, concentrating on her finale.

  He placed his finger—gently, firmly, decisively, lovingly—on her swollen, eager, overripe clitoris, urging, inviting, commanding her to give in to the deep rhythms of her body. Oh, how he knew her anatomy, how to set off the trip wire, releasing pulse after pulse. Theryssa felt the energy—microshocks through her entire system—even as the main eruption occurred in the vicinity of her pussy. Over and over she said his name as both of them completed their bliss.

  At last, there was nothing of her left. Expended, she felt herself collapsing, fainting. But with a smile on her face.

  Azar didn’t let her slide down but scooped her into his arms. Immediately, she cuddled against the warmth and solidity of his chest. Superwoman though she might be, there was nothing like this feeling of being cradled, knowing that her weight was as light as a feather to this man.

  “Azar…thank you.”

  “You’ll thank me more later.” He grinned mischievously. “Assuming you survive the flogging.”

  He was headed straight for the door, both of them sans clothes.

  “Azar,” she clung to him, “we can’t go out there like this.”

  “Why not?”

  “We’re both nude!”

  “It’s my ship,” he growled, “I’ll go about it as I wish.”

  Theryssa made an appeal to his possessive nature. “You really want them seeing me naked?”

  Azar frowned, considering the matter. “Good point.” Setting her down on the edge of the table for a moment, he went to retrieve his tunic, the one he had been wearing, which was not torn. “We’ll cover you up with this.”

  It was Theryssa’s turn to grin. “I like that you don’t want to share me…not even visually. I guess that means you won’t be passing me around like a rum bottle the way you threatened, huh?”

  “I wouldn’t get too smug, woman. You may find yourself wishing I would share you.”

  “So I’m a woman, finally,” she noted the change in nomenclature.

  “It wasn’t meant as a compliment…slave girl.”

  Theryssa couldn’t help but laugh. How bizarre was that? And yet it made sense, given the special, magical bond between them. Like a dance, where each knew the limits of what was serious and what was play, each delivering precisely what the other needed.

  “Of course not…Master.”

  Azar laced up his shirt, covering her nakedness. This time he put her over his shoulder, like a rolled rug, facedown, backwards.

  “Azar,” she screeched, “what are you doing?”

  He slapped her conveniently placed behind, covered by the tunic which was long enough on her to be a dress. “I am taking you back to my cabin. To find the chains you managed to shed. I assure you that you will not shed them again.”

  “But people will see me!”

  “You’re not naked, Theryssa, I thought that was your chief complaint.”

  She sought to grab hold of the doorway as they walked out. “No, I won’t be shamed like this.”

  “Let go.” He stung her ass with a considerably harder spank.

  She did so, her cheeks flushed, her pussy freshly moistened. “You are impossible,” she declared. “Do you know that?”

  “What is so incredible about a pirate carrying booty?”

  “I’m not booty.” She kicked.

  “Keep struggling, little one, and you will be naked again. On a leash, dragged behind me.”

  Theryssa settled down.

  Damn it, she was horny all over again. With his every jostling step, her insides only got more scrambled, more ready for more fucking. The elevator ride was even worse.

  “Azar? I could go down on you,” she tempted him.

  “You can wait a little longer,” he rubbed her upturned bottom.

  Theryssa sighed in frustration. “No, I can’t.”

  At last they got off the elevator. They were nearly home free.

  Famous last words…

  “Oleron.” Azar acknowledged the man waiting for him outside his cabin door.

  Theryssa held her breath. He was the last man they needed to be running into. To make things worse, she could see nothing, positioned as she was.

  “Captain,” replied the baldheaded pirate Theryssa hated on account of the threat he posed to Azar, “I was looking for you.”

  Azar’s voice held little warmth. “You have something to report, Oleron?”

  Theryssa could feel Azar’s body on alert. Subtle, but very real.

  “Yes. The Earth ship has left. With our two visitors.” Oleron cleared his throat, probably in recognition of Azar’s current state of nudity. “Am I to assume you will be keeping this one?”

  “You are to assume nothing, Oleron.”

  “I never do, Captain. I prefer to ga
in my own experience. Take your new wench, for example. I would like to experience her. I assume she’s a good lay? Judging by all the time you’ve spent with her.”

  “You will not talk about her that way, Oleron.”

  Oleron laughed under his breath, a kind of dark chuckle.

  “I fail to see anything funny.”

  “I just never thought I would see the day, that’s all,” Oleron declared, “when the great Captain Azar would get himself wrapped around the finger of a common slut.”

  Azar tensed. It was a primale stance. Usually one that precipitated attack. Theryssa felt a complex wave of emotions. Part of her wanted to fight for herself, but another was flattered, even a bit overwhelmed that Azar would defend her honor this way.

  “You will not speak of the woman in such terms, Oleron,” Azar dictated. “In fact, you will not speak of her at all.”

  “He better not,” Theryssa piped up. “Or he will find his words shoved right back down his throat. Along with my fist.”

  Azar smacked Theryssa’s ass. “Silence, woman.”

  Theryssa drew a deep breath. She had been disciplined…in front of another man. Biting her lip, she held back a retort. Much as she might want to fight back, all she could think of was what Azar would do to her when they got inside his cabin.

  Wicked, sexual things. Things she feared. Things she craved.

  Oleron laughed again. “I see you’ve begun training her.”

  “She obeys me,” said Azar, “and no one else.”

  Theryssa could kiss him. And kneel to him. And punch him, too.

  It was complicated, this submission thing, this…

  Theryssa stopped short. She had almost said this love thing.

  How messed up was that? she mused. After all the men who had wined and dined her, making spectacular offers, this was the one sweeping her off her feet, literally. And he was doing so by ravishing her step by step, putting her into a place of complete sexual slavery.

  She was supposed to be dominant, the daughter of Theron. So why did she want nothing more in the world right now than to be brought inside Azar’s quarters, tossed down on the bed and told to strip in anticipation of his will? His chains. His cock. His punishing hand. His flogger.

  “She’ll obey me, too,” Oleron defied. “Once I’ve taught her the meaning of fear.”

  “This woman will never fear you,” Azar vowed. “Nor will any other.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that I must now attend to something I should have a long time ago.” He set Theryssa down on bare feet. “Go in my cabin,” he commanded her. “Clean yourself in the sanitizing chamber. Then choose one of the floggers from the wall. Place it between your teeth and wait for me on the bed, on your hands and knees.”

  She glanced quickly at Oleron, who was sneering. Her breathing was quick. Strangely, she did not feel degraded. It was just as Azar had predicted. She felt the definite sense of submission to her man, but in front of this other, she felt only pride.

  There was no dishonor in serving the pleasure of the right man. She saw that now. For a man like Azar would honor her pleasure, too.

  “Yes,” she replied, catching Oleron’s expression out of the corner of her eye, “Master.”

  Azar pressed the button to his cabin door, allowing Theryssa to go inside. “And now for you,” he said to Oleron.

  Oleron drew his sword. “I don’t want to have to kill you where you stand, Azar. But I will.”

  “Be careful,” she raised herself to tip toes to kiss his cheek. “Please?”

  He smiled at her, giving a slight wink. Theryssa did not know what chance he was taking, really. Was Oleron a primale, too? He didn’t seem to be, but he might contain some superior genetic material. And what about the other pirates who seemed to be allied to him?

  As the door slid closed, Theryssa heard the sound of a man screaming. A second later, she heard the sword fall to the floor. The suspense was too much. She had to know. Desperately, she pushed the button. Let Azar be upset with her, she just wanted to know if he was all right.

  Oh, stars, if he’d been hurt or killed, she would never forgive herself. In a single instant, she came face to face with the most terrifying reality of her life. She was in love. With Azar Xenelion, King of Pirates. Against all odds, in a matter of mere hours, it had happened.

  Was it just power of suggestion, the influence of her very persuasive parents? She might have dismissed it as such, were her heart not stopped at this very moment, its further beating hinged completely on Azar’s existence.

  The servo door whirred open. She held her breath. Oleron lay dead on the floor, a single stab wound through his heart, his sword beside him, broken into two pieces.

  But where was Azar? There was no trace of him. Emotions flooded her. She had half expected to see his body out there. The other half of her expected to see him alive.

  She was wrong on both scores.

  Clearly he had gone off to take care of Oleron’s allies.

  He would be back soon. And he would expect her to be waiting. As ordered.

  Touching herself briefly, sucking in her lower lip, she enjoyed a small jolt of pleasure.

  I must prepare myself, she thought. I must clean my body. I must choose a flogger. I must be in bed. On my hands and knees. The leather handle between my teeth.

  Waiting…for my Master.

  Theryssa pressed the door button, sealing herself inside Azar’s cabin. There was come on her fingertips. She licked it off, savoring, moaning, and removing the evidence.

  But what about the button panel? That had come on it, too. Pressing her belly to the wall, she thrust out her tongue, licking the round surface clean. Her nipples were rubbing, squashed.

  Oh, god, she needed sex.

  Come back soon, Azar. Come back safe and sound.

  And hard.

  Yes, they would fuck. But they would have to talk, too. About each other’s feelings. He was not indifferent to her, she knew that much. But how deep did it go? And could he get to it…while he had the chance to be with her?

  One way or the other, the subject must be broached. And she would have to take the lead. For in as much as he was meant to be the Master of their sex-making, she was going to have to be mistress of their dawning relationship.

  If indeed they had one outside of bed at all.

  Chapter Nine

  Azar struck terror into the hearts of his crew as he moved among them, stalking the corridors of the ship, searching for his enemies. He was like some animal predator—keen, intelligent and efficiently deadly, eyes intent on vengeance.

  Like rats, they sought to scatter. They did not need to know about his being a primale, in the midst of attack rage to be convinced of the need to flee for their lives. It was enough to see the man, fists clenched, stark naked, his powerful body bathed in the blood of the dead Oleron as he hunted.

  Weaponless, save for a pair of tightly clenched fists.

  It was certainly a surprise, to say the least.

  Azar himself had not expected to be put into such a state. Any more than Oleron could have known what he was unleashing, threatening the safety of Theryssa.

  Apparently Theryssa meant something to Azar. Something deeper than mere sexual attraction. This was classic mate protection behavior, exhibited by primales in defense of their pair-bond.

  No one could hope to stand against such an expression of power, not even another primale. It was said such a reaction was a sure sign that a primale had found his mate, the woman he was to spend his life with.

  Once such a woman was found, he would never be able to touch or desire another. His monogamy would be unbreakable. Absolute. And so would his possessiveness.

  Such absoluteness would overwhelm any fem, which is why there were the obedients, the women genetically designed to find bliss in submission to a super-strong, super-devoted…and super-domineering primale.

  Azar had fought these feelings before, with Solania.
He had been too afraid. Too young and unsure. His hesitancy had cost her life. For when the hour of challenge had come, when Malthusalus had stepped into the picture to prey on her vulnerability, he had not been there to protect her.

  Nor had he fought the Council afterward, to secure her life.

  Had he admitted his love, had he not been the stupidest and most stubborn primale in history, he would have brought down the whole of the Guardian force just to save her.

  But that wouldn’t have been necessary. For she would never have been caught up in spying. She would have been at home, where she belonged, tending to their domestic life.

  It was absurd he should have to relive all this now. And with a woman completely wrong for any primale. Theron and Nyssa were wrong. There was nothing here that could bind him and Theryssa. She was just dredging up ghosts, that’s all.

  But she was damn good at it.

  And right now, she had him walking as a man again, as a primale, for the first time in years. For her safety. And for the honor of the pirate code, which had its limits, its morals.

  Those without honor. Those who abused females, who took from them what they did not wish to give in their hearts, including their own desire for slavery, were not fit to live.

  Blast it, how long had he been walking the line himself? Wasn’t he calling the kettle black?

  “Captain,” whimpered Vraka, one of Oleron’s henchmen, his sword hand trembling fiercely. “I swear, I wasn’t never part of no mutiny plans.”

  Azar inclined his head in the direction of the man’s weapon. “Do you intend to use that sword on me?”

  “No, sir,” exclaimed the man, realizing his error. “I swear,” he raised his hands in the air.

  “Drop it,” said Azar, the quiet intensity of his voice only heightening the fearsome sense of his power.

  Vraka dropped the sword and fell crying to his knees. “Please, don’t kill me,” he wailed.

  “You will come with me,” said Azar “You will point out to me every traitor. You will reveal them all. If you exclude one, or falsely accuse any man, I shall remove your entrails and have them fed to the first dogs I run across. Is that clear?”

  “Oh, yes,” he cried, sweat beading on his forehead. “Oh, sir, I swear I’ll not steer you wrong.”