His Human Vessel (Zandian Masters 5)

“I mean it. Your orgasms are mine to control. Every one of them. Your body belongs to me. You’re my vessel, and I’m going to keep you in perfect condition for the duty for which I chose you.”

She wanted to scowl, but she schooled her features to something more agreeable.

His vessel, my ass. Well, not literally.

He wasn’t a bad master, and, so far, her surroundings—the cage, the food, Daneth’s room—were so preferable to the fertility farm, she never wanted to go back. But she also didn’t want to be implanted with an alien. She didn’t want to grow a baby inside her, only to have it taken from her a third time.

“Open cage door,” he commanded, and it sprang open. “Out.”

She climbed to her hands and knees and backed out. Daneth molded his hands around her waist and lifted her down, though he could have easily lowered the cage. He wants to touch me. A thrill of power flicked through her.

He placed her feet on the floor. “Come. A small punishment to help you remember this rule.”

“I didn’t know the rule, Master,” she wheedled, but his frown stopped her from going on. He sat on the edge of his bed and beckoned her to him.

She approached and started to drop to her knees between his legs, prepared to suck him off again, but he stopped her with a hand on her forearm and dragged her across his lap instead.

His hand cracked down on her bare ass, but it didn’t fall hard. A small punishment, he’d said. Maybe he just wanted to have her over his lap. He peppered her ass with light smacks that only succeeded in making her more horny.

Oh.

Was that his intention? Torturing her through arousal because he’d claimed ownership of her orgasms?

Heat pooled between her legs—playing this strange new game with the sexy doctor excited her. Especially when he stopped and rubbed her tingling buttocks. “You like having your ass spanked, don’t you, little human?” The rough quality of his voice told her he liked it as much as she.

When he pulled her cheeks apart, though, she squeezed her ass together and squirmed on his lap.

He delivered a much harder smack to her ass. “You will hold still, or I will strap you down.”

“Ouch! Yes, Master.” She spoke the words expected of her, but stopping the squirming and relaxing her bottom was another matter.

Daneth tapped one cheek. She bit her lip, her buns instantly tightening again until she forced her muscles to soften. Once more, the doctor prized her cheeks apart, and a cold blob of liquid dropped on her anus.

She flinched, trying to squeeze again, but Daneth’s finger rubbed it in a circle then something cold and hard pressed against her back entrance. She lifted her head, craning to see over her shoulder. “W-what is that?”

“A plug. To remind you who controls your body. I will take it out when I feel the lesson is complete.”

His words angered her, even as fresh heat rushed to her core.

She tried to resist the object, but he pressed insistently until her tight sphincter had to open or incur pain. The muscles yawned, and the plug stretched her wide.

She mewled, not so much from discomfort, although there was some, but more from the sensation of intrusion. Invasion. Humiliation at having him claim this part of her body in addition to her uterus. This hadn’t been a punishment on the fertility farm. But an attractive alien doctor hadn’t been part of the equation, either. Was she embarrassed because she cared what he thought of her? Did she want more respect? That was stupid. Slaves don't get respect.

The plug seated in her, and the discomfort eased, but the sensation of fullness remained.

“Put on a tunic.” He tipped her back up to her feet. “I will take you to the kitchen to eat.”

She wasn’t sure how to stand, much less walk, with the plug inside her. She tried, making a stiff-legged trip across the room to fetch her tunic, which he’d hung on a hook the night

before. It turned out the plug didn’t inhibit her movement, but the jostling of walking certainly provided a cascade of sensation to her anus, making her pussy drip.

She slipped on the tunic. “May I use the washroom, Master?” she asked.

He looked up from his study of his cuff readouts with impatience. “Of course. Don’t interrupt me for foolish questions.”

Grr. How was she to know whether she was allowed to use his washroom or not? For all she knew, slaves had their own separate facilities. She kept her annoyance to herself, though, and took care of her business.

When she returned to the chamber, Master Daneth clipped her handcuffs behind her back and attached a collar and chain around her neck. Apparently, he thought she’d try to escape once they left his room.