His Human Slave (Zandian Masters 1)

She wasn’t sure she would ever warm up to being kept in a cage like an animal, but there was something oddly comforting about having her own space within this terrifying new reality. When she started to stand, he lifted her with a hand under one arm.

His superior strength made her knees weak. He could hurt her. Far worse than he had. He certainly had shown restraint. Why did that turn her on?

She crawled into her cage and located the tube. The liquid inside tasted sweet and fruity. Delicious. She drank her fill and then crawled back out, settling once more at her master’s feet. He didn’t acknowledge her, but the tension between them had eased.

She watched him work, listened to his conversations, watched his messages. His large hands moved with elegant grac

e as he traced holograms, stretching them, shrinking them, sliding to the next one. The same large hands that had paddled her raw.

She longed for him to touch her. There. There it was. The unacceptable truth. He had slapped her face and spanked her ass. He had cupped her chin and gripped her nape. He’d held her arms. But she was his sex slave. His breeder. Shouldn’t he be interested in touching her breasts? Her pussy? When would he do so?

A tap sounded at the door.

“Enter.”

Daneth came in, followed by two servants carrying various objects. The first one brought a piece of furniture—some kind of bench. The second one carried...oh veck. They were instruments of torture. Things to beat her with. Frightening, cone-shaped objects. Various tubes of gels and ointments.

Daneth began explaining them all to Zander, who watched her face as she absorbed it. She tried to keep it blank, but probably didn’t succeed. Her ears burned. Her bottom, which had stopped throbbing, tingled. A loud rushing sound in her ears made their voices sound far away.

“Slave, come here,” Daneth said.

Zander spoke. “Lamira.” It sounded like a correction—to Daneth—and it made something in her chest flutter. Not slave. Lamira.

She rewarded the consideration with obedience, stepping forward, even though she knew what would happen. The doctor, or scientist, or whatever he was, pushed her down over the bench, snapping her wrists and ankles to the legs. She lay naked, with her ass lifted and spread, offered up for punishment.

“It can also be used for the breeding, you see,” Daneth explained, tapping her sex with two fingers.

She wriggled away.

“Oh, this should also be useful during penetration. It may prevent tearing from your larger size.” Daneth roughly smeared something cold and liquid across her folds.

She tightened both holes, straining against her bonds.

“Leave us.” Zander’s voice sounded even deeper than usual.

“Yes, my lord.” She imagined Daneth bowing and backing toward the door.

Her legs trembled on the bench. This was it. He was going to shove his enormous Zandian cock in her virgin hole now. Her hands turned cold and clammy. She gripped the legs of the padded bench so hard her knuckles turned white.

It occurred to her to beg—to plead with the prince, who might not be such a terrible being, to postpone their copulation. But her lips wouldn’t work, tongue didn’t move. She remained silent in the horrible position, offered up to him like the slave she was.

Zander probed her entrance with his finger, rubbing the slick substance around her entrance. He pushed his finger inside.

Her foot jerked, and she sucked in her breath across bared teeth.

“Does that hurt?”

She didn’t answer him. No. It didn’t hurt, but she didn’t want to tell him that. She wanted him to stop, to put her back in the odious cage and leave her alone.

He slapped the back of her thigh, and she yelped. “I asked you a question.”

“I don’t like it,” she said sullenly.

A long silence stretched while he screwed his huge finger inside her. It met her virginal resistance and he paused, going slowly, investigating her interior walls. Her belly fluttered. Heat flooded her sex, flushed out across her skin. Her pussy swelled under his touch, the lubricant spreading with a more pleasing sensation now.

“Your genes, of all those recorded in the Ocreatic galaxy, are predicted to mesh best with mine. I don’t know why—it doesn’t make sense to me how a human could bear the best offspring for me, but that’s what the program says. So neither of us has to like it...but we are going to do it.” There was a steely dominance to the dictate.

It made something pulse deep inside her. She experienced an opening, a yawning of her sexual organs, as if they accepted his words at face value and wanted to oblige.