His Human Slave (Zandian Masters 1)

“Your ships are on the way. I require the remaining payment now.”

He shook his head. “Payment will come when I have the ships in my possession, as we agreed on.”

She smiled an ugly smile. Half her teeth were blackened or missing. “I’m changing the arrangement.”

He turned, daring to give her his back. Seke and Lium would cover him, and the feigned nonchalance was more important than his personal safety now. “Deal’s off.” He walked away, not turning t

o look back as he spoke.

“Wait a moment, Zander the Zandian.”

He didn’t stop.

“The ships are here,” she called out.

He paused, but didn’t turn.

She gave a deep laugh. “In the hangar. Come, I’ll show you.”

He pivoted slowly and folded his arms across his chest. “Stop playing games with me, Joan-Angeline.”

Again, the toothy smile. “No games. I have your ships. Let’s go. You’ll be satisfied, I assure you.”

He snorted. He didn’t believe her assurances for a millisecond, but if she had the fighting ships he’d been seeking, she’d be the first of many who promised to actually deliver. And he needed these ships. Without them, the liberation of Zandia would be impossible.

He, Seke, and Lium followed her down a metal walkway to a large hangar. There, nine beat-up fighting ships stood parked.

“I paid you for a dozen.”

“You paid half the cost of a dozen. And I require the remaining half now. They were difficult to acquire. The price has gone up.”

Once more, he called her bluff. “No deal. These ships may not even be airworthy. I’ll take them for the money I already paid, no more.”

“Ah, sorry, Prince Zander, but I have another buyer. If you don’t take them, he will.”

Zander hesitated. This might be true. He’d been attempting to acquire an air fleet for the past sixteen lunar cycles and these were the first he’d seen. He couldn’t be the only being in the galaxy who wanted to buy ships on the black market. Joan-Angeline had maybe fifteen beings standing around with guns. None of them looked particularly smart. The three Zandians could probably take them all in a fight. They were all well-trained warriors. But he had honor. He wouldn’t steal what he had pledged to buy, even if Joan-Angeline didn’t deserve it. “The ships are mine. I financed their purchase. Because Zandians have honor, I will pay the price we agreed upon, but only for the ships that are here.”

Joan-Evangeline puffed her fat cheeks and stared at him, her bug eyes never blinking.

He kept his knees soft, his hand on his weapon, ready if she struck.

“Load the ships into their carrier,” she snapped at her underlings, whirling and walking away.

Lium and Seke didn’t relax, still as alert as he to any danger.

The smugglers loaded the fighting ships onto his carrier, though, while Joan-Evangeline stood guard at the door to make sure he didn’t leave without paying. He counted out the steins and placed them in a burlap sack, which he tossed to her when the transfer of the ships was complete. She gave him another toothy grin. “Nice doing business with you Zander of Zandia.”

He inclined his head. Zandians didn’t lie, and he’d be lying if he said the same about her. They boarded the craft carrier, and he took the controls to fly them out of Joan-Evangeline’s docking station and back to his pod. Only when they had flown several miles without a tail did he begin to relax.

He finally had fighter ships. Now all he needed was an army.

Chapter 7

Lamira touched the first sprout of a watermelon plant from her row of starts. Her pussy was raw and sore from fresh use and her limbs wobbled like they were made of rubber. It must be the recent orgasm that made her spirits soar now. She shouldn’t be this excited over new plant starts.

After she’d made her list of supplies, Zander had found a catalog and let her leaf through the holograms and pick everything herself. He’d allowed her to buy several types of exorbitantly expensive heirloom seeds, originally grown on Earth, before the planet was destroyed by the overpopulation of the Ocretions. He’d paid for the best soil and beautiful pots, since the “garden” would actually be in his great hall. He’d even ordered two of his servants to assist her. She’d planted the seeds four days ago, and already some had sprouted.

Life as Zander’s breeder continued to befuddle her. The confinement and degradation maddened her. The sex, though, while rough and hard, brought her to heights she’d never known existed. She liked it too much.