His Untamed Mate (Swarii Mates Book 1)

by Korey Mae Johnson

  Her stomach clenched upon those words. She had never received ‘the plug’ before, but she had stood by and watched it done to other slaves who didn’t have the privilege of reading Jazeel’s mind. It didn’t seem like having a phallus crammed inside their anuses was the highlight of their week, to say the least.

  Ellie didn’t argue like she knew Jazeel wanted her to. He wanted an excuse to spank her again. Her action, though not premeditated, had embarrassed him, she knew. She would have enjoyed his embarrassment if it had been created by anyone else, but now that it was herself—or rather, her bottom—facing the fire, she humbled herself immediately. She buried her face into his lap, trying to look too sad and pathetic to manhandle. “Please forgive me,” she pleaded. “I didn’t think.”

  “Oh, my poor little pet,” Jazeel sighed and raised her head up with his hands so that she had to look up at him. “I swear sometimes you have me wrapped around your finger, far more than you are wrapped around mine,” he gently chided. “But this is for your benefit. It will help you serve me better. Don’t you want to serve me better?”

  She swallowed what she really wanted to say and monotonously said what he wanted her to say instead. “Yes, my lord. Thank you for the opportunity to serve you better.” But she didn’t mean it; her eyes dropped with misery as soon as she had finished saying it.

  Anger was heaving within her bared chest by the time Peyton was standing behind her, dutifully passing over to his master what looked like a short ivory phallus, only one that was flat at the end. She turned her head toward Peyton, just to glare at him for not making an excuse to Jazeel about how the anal plug was impossible to find. He was looking quite angry himself, however. His eye seemed to twitch as he glanced back at her.

  “Undress and lie over my lap, my beauty,” Jazeel ordered calmly.

  She dropped her upper body from Jazeel’s knees, falling back onto her heels with depression. There was nothing she could do, she knew, but obey and let him do what he wanted with her bottom, since he ‘owned’ it for all purposes that mattered. She forced herself up to her feet, moving the speed of an injured snail, hating every single movement that led her toward this inevitable end. She couldn’t pretend to be anything less than hateful about this.

  It didn’t matter if she pretended to like it or not, she knew. It was obvious that Jazeel was becoming excited by her loathing of the plug.

  She pulled the rest of her dress down beyond her hips and let it all puddle onto the floor around her ankles. She closed her arms over her breasts and put her hand modestly in front of her bare cunny, but stepped away from the clothes and approached the side of Jazeel’s knees and was guided over his tall lap.

  She poorly stifled a whimper as she felt Jazeel pet her aching bottom roughly with his hand after he had pulled her up and over his lap. After dallying for a long while, he spread her bottom cheeks. He ran his fingertip over her puckered anus for a moment, but then delved lower and slowly began to push his hard, cold fingers up into her exposed pussy, surely just to see her squirm. “You have to relax,” he cooed with a grin.

  As her body dangled over his knee, she put her face in her hands. She was so ashamed by the idea of the plug that she hadn’t been listening to his shal’ta, which was no longer guarded. His thoughts flowed freely, exposing how much he was enjoying this. Now, she had a new reason to be mortified: he was actually going to try to play with her.

  He adjusted her on his lap so that her legs splayed more comfortably apart. He rubbed his fingers everywhere she wished that he wouldn’t until he found her little nub and started to play with it.

  The strangest thing happened then—her body began to betray her. Her mind wasn’t filled up with images of Jazeel, of course. Some part of her brain had decided that, in order to get through this moment with her sanity intact, she had to pretend that she was somewhere else, with someone else.

  Before this morning, it was unlikely that her brain would have been able to find anyone from her past that she wanted to think about at a time like this, but as of now her thoughts hung on the recent encounter with the Swarii commander.

  Despite his roughed-up look, the man had been quite attractive, though in a mature way, not boyish at all. She couldn’t tell exactly how old he was—he had one of those faces that could have belonged to a man in his late twenties or a man who was pushing forty. His features were incredibly defined, even with a nose that looked like it had been broken a couple of times. His eyebrows and mouth seemed expressive enough. She actually appreciated his size. His arms weren’t quite as huge as Peyton’s (whose were?) but they looked strong, like he had worked with them often. He also had a chiseled jawline, broad shoulders, and a broad chest.

  She imagined that man being her master, and that she was a new harem girl who had been willful and naughty. She imagined that it was his lap she was bent over, and it was his fingers teasing her, flicking her clit, and running around her bottom hole in circles until he pushed one into her after wetting it with her own slick arousal. “Oh!” she panted, her cheeks flushed as she felt the penetration and the small amount of discomfort that went along with it.

  She began to make soft mewing sounds and wiggled her bottom back and forth shamelessly. Jazeel, who surely had never seen such a reaction, grunted with confusion at first. According to his thoughts, which were piercing into her mind, he had read about reactions such as these, but he had never seen it. With a scientist-like interest, he continued playing with her, dipping the cone-like end of the plug slightly into her vagina, and in moments it was completely slick with her juices. She writhed slightly as he settled the plug just outside of her puckered rosebud.

  With one swift motion, however, Jazeel was able to break the spell and she was shaken out of her fantasy and pulled back into the real world. “Eeek!” she screamed shrilly as he pushed the plug all the way into her with a single, firm thrust that stretched her opening to the one-and-a-half inch diameter it had been at its thickest.

  Her posture suddenly became a singular straight line from her shoulders to her toes. “Eeek!” she continued to shriek as the pain, she realized, had yet to ebb even slightly. The plug was still stretching her anus far beyond what it was used to accommodating. “Please, please take it out!” she panted desperately, even reaching behind her. Tears were stinging her eyes. “Master, please!” she implored. “It hurts!”

  “Relax,” he told her with a grin. He pushed her hand away, back toward the floor. “It’s meant to be uncomfortable, even hurt. But the strongest of the pain will fade in time, I’m told.” He watched her muscles try their best to release the uncomfortable item, to no avail. Eventually, her body realized that it wouldn’t be able to push the plug back out easily, and she laid limp and crying over his lap. “That’s a good girl,” he praised, patting her bottom.

  Finally, he had her get off of his lap. Every movement was uncomfortable, sending a numbing ache coursing through her.

  “Have her carry out her duties, as usual,” he told Peyton. “You may remove it before she goes to sleep tonight.”

  She blanched and stared up at Jazeel with large eyes. “Please, Master… That’s all day!”

  Jazeel lowered his head toward her as he locked his eyes on her expression. “Yes, it is.” He cocked his head to the side and looked her up and down. “You’ve been an extremely whiny pet all day today,” he noted. “It makes me feel like I’ve neglected you.”

  She was already shaking her head ‘no.’

  “Perhaps I should put you on a punishment regimen, so that you become properly aware of what happens when little pets argue with their masters.” He watched her closely, and she knew he was curious to see how she’d respond to his threat.

  Knowing that he was testing her, she finally became wise. She hung her head and said the most appropriate lines that came into her mind. “Only if it would please you, Master.”

  He squinted indecisively. “It may. I will have to think on it. In the meantime, I think it would be wise if you
acted more like the prima that you are,” he told her, and then turned to Peyton and waved him away as a means of excusing them both from his sight.

  “Thank you for your discipline, my lord,” she finally said, bowing her head respectfully. She then gingerly bent to gather her clothing before walking over to Peyton and letting him guide her out of the room, still naked.

  As soon as the guards closed the door behind them and they were around the corner, Peyton let go of her arm and gave her a firm spank on her already smarting skin. “What’s the matter with you?” he charged. “What did you do in there to make him upset with you? Have you lost your mind?” Though she tried to cower away from him, he grabbed her arm and spun her around so that he could spank her again.

  She dropped the clump of clothing on the floor so that she could cover her tender bottom with both hands. “Peyton!” she whined. “You don’t even know what happened!”

  “I know what should have happened!” he retorted. “You needed to be your usual charming self, and you failed! He was in perfectly good spirits when I last saw him this morning! Next thing I know, I’m called in and sent for the plug.” He snorted, bending over and picking up her clothes for her. “Well, fine day for us all,” he grumbled as he pushed the dress into her hands. “I hope that thing feels as uncomfortable as I think it does. Not that you didn’t writhe like a bitch in heat while he put it in.”

  She froze, and her cheeks flushed red. His words stung so much she sputtered, speechless, for a moment before she hissed, “You can be such an ass, Peyton! How many times have I saved your neck? Or your balls, should I say? If it wasn’t for me, you ass-hat, you would be sponging off women right now and not even having the ability to enjoy it.”

  “What was I supposed to do?” he asked, as if she was the one being argumentative. “Not obey? If the day ever comes, Ellie, that I step between you and Jazeel, it will mean that your life is at stake, and not just your ass.”

  She huffed and then tried to dress herself again without moving her bottom—a very delicate task that proved impossible. “Well, you could not spank me afterward!” she advised haughtily, wincing every time her bottom twitched. “Do you know how a spank feels when one of these is inside of you? Let me fill you in: breathing hurts right now! Besides, what time period were you born in where you learned all this spanking nonsense? I know you’re from Texas, but… Holy Pete! Do you actually fancy yourself McLintock?” she nagged miserably.

  Peyton shook his head ever so slightly, as if he was trying to shake himself free of a headache. “I have over a hundred and fifty women under my command and twenty eunuchs,” he reminded. “I have to keep human men out of the palace at all costs. I have nearly fifty Frians to feed, clothe, and wait upon. You have only Jazeel to keep happy. Now, get to work or you’ll find out what it feels like to be strapped with the butt plug in,” he threatened darkly. He threw up his hands with exasperation. “I don’t have time for you.” He turned to march down the hall.

  She pressed her lips tightly together in a pout. “Fine. Go. Enjoy being a slave, you ungrateful ass!” she muttered.

  Peyton turned around and raised his eyebrows. “You want to throw a little more attitude my way, little girl?” he asked with impatience.

  She swallowed, looking him over. He was not in his easy-going mode. He was in his kicking-ass mode. And she did not want to be on his ass-kicking list. “No,” she grumbled softly, avoiding eye contact with him as if he was a large gorilla banging his chest at her.

  “I didn’t think so,” he said, then turned back around and stomped away.

  She sighed and then slowly meandered toward the kitchens. Mary took one look at her as soon as she walked in and cleaned flour off her hands, asking, “You okay, kiddo?” with her voice already filled with sympathy.

  Ellie forced a brave smile. “I’ll get by. Your boyfriend there’s a piece of work, though,” she admitted.

  “Tell me about it,” Mary agreed, rolling her eyes. “Sometimes I think he’s on the verge of an ulcer. He needs to learn to relax. When he’s less stressed, he’s actually very funny.”

  “Peyton?” Ellie drawled. “Funny?” She gave a snort. “Sure…”

  “You should be nice,” Mary lectured, putting her hands on her hips briefly before she grabbed a freshly baked scone and buttered it for herself. “If you only knew how highly he thinks of you, you know. He loves you like a sister.”

  Ellie waved Mary off with both of her hands. “Yeah, yeah,” she sighed, then leaned wearily against the counter ledge. “He’s a saint. Whatever.” She put her hand on the countertop and started to drum her fingers upon the surface, frustrated. There was no position that she could stand in that felt comfortable. She looked over at Mary, whose eyebrows were lowered, obviously not having appreciated being waved off by someone seven years younger than she was. “Sorry,” Ellie said, heaving a sigh. “I’m in a bad mood. I was…” She cleared her throat. “Plugged.”

  Mary gasped and closed her hand around her open mouth. “No!” she gasped. “Are you serious?”

  Ellie felt her cheeks heating slightly, but nodded. “Yeah. By Jazeel,” she added for clarity, since Peyton had also occasionally plugged a girl or two in the past who had been flirting with human men through the peephole near the kitchens where supplies were delivered. As Peyton would be blamed for the loss of any of the girls’ virginities, he didn’t allow any non-eunuchs anywhere on the premises, and so the small face-wide opening in the doorway was the only place where slave girls could see any new men. Ellie had often teased Peyton about it, and called him a bouncer, but not even she had ever considered even glancing outside of the hole in the door after seeing the consequences.

  Ellie jutted out her bottom lip and said, “Peyton was less than sympathetic about it.”

  “What could you have possibly done?” Mary asked, still shaking her head incredulously. Her amazement wasn’t surprising, since Ellie had never done anything to earn Jazeel’s displeasure. In fact, Ellie had always been put upon a pedestal as an example of how the other girls should serve him!

  “He was about to shoot this Swarii guy in the face,” she explained passively, as if that sort of thing happened regularly. “And I sort of… hampered him. Look,” she put up her hand and changed the subject. “Have you ever seen a Swarii, Mary?”

  Mary nodded. “Yeah, actually. The crew that abducted me picked a couple up and tortured them to death,” she admitted. Ellie, now knowing what they looked like, was now more disturbed by that forward explanation. “They look like… us,” she said uncomfortably.

  “But they’re not,” Mary was quick to correct, her voice almost stern. Mary had well established that as far as she was concerned it was humans against everyone else.

  “But they look like…” Ellie continued.

  “They’re not human, Ellie,” Mary told her, cutting her hand through the air. “Don’t let yourself be confused by the coincidence that they, in some way, look like us. They’re far more advanced than us. They’re also, like… I don’t know, eight feet tall.”

  “There was only one of them I would say was even close to eight feet,” Ellie argued dispassionately. “Seven feet, maybe. I mean, yeah—tall. But Peyton’s like, six-and-a-half, so that’s not too weird. You obviously dig tall men…”

  “Is that why you saved one of them?” Mary prompted, raising a blonde eyebrow. “Because you thought they were human?” It was apparent in Mary’s expression that if Ellie said she thought they were human, she was going to think less of her.

  Ellie shrugged. “Well…”

  “Look, Ellie,” Mary sighed. “We have enough of a time protecting our own skin. The last thing we need to do right now is lay ourselves down for a whole other species we know nothing about.”

  At that moment, Peyton marched into the kitchen. His attention immediately was taken by the two girls. He might have noticed that Mary’s expression was a little darker than it usually was. Ellie was still wallowing in self-pity. “What are
you two talkin’ about?” he asked them briskly.

  “Nothing,” Ellie replied, barely looking at him.

  Peyton squinted at her as if she was plotting against him. “Are you lying to me, now?” Peyton asked, stepping dangerously close to her.

  Mary put a calming hand across Peyton’s chest. “You need to turn it down a few notches, sweetie,” she told him. “We were talking about girl stuff. Besides, you should give her a break. She didn’t anger Jazeel on purpose, obviously, and besides, she’s entitled to screw up every now and then. She’s only human!”

  He grunted, but seemed to calm down nearly immediately. “I need you to get some mechanical work done, Ellie,” he told her. Her mouth opened to protest, but he put one of his thick fingers across her lips, silencing her. “I don’t care how sore you are. There’re a lot of jobs that need doin’, and they need to get done. Mary’s sewin’ machine needs to be fixed, the oven’s having troubles, the air conditioner on level two is off…” She sighed as he continued the list.

  She was regretting ever telling him that she was a mechanic. She missed just having a car to repair—just a car! She missed being up to her elbows in grease and listening to her uncle and her father’s cursing, or to her cousins’ tools blare and shrill from across the room.

  With the duties Peyton was giving her, she might as well have been an electrician.

  “Are you even listening?” Peyton snapped.

  She definitely had not been. Her eyes slowly climbed up to his face so she could stare wearily at him.

  “First thing I want you to do, li’l girl, is go downstairs and fix the damn locking mechanism in the prison cell.”

  “You said it wasn’t a high priority,” she parroted from something he’d said a few days before.

  “That was before we had prisoners in that cell,” he replied. “Now we do.” Her eyes widened as she realized that he meant that the Swarii were down there in that cell. “The guards will let you down there,” he told her. “They know it needs fixin’—hell, they just bugged me about it. But if you’re nervous, you can go ahead and wait. The Swarii are gonna be executed in a couple days, anyway.”