His Human Prisoner (Zandian Masters 2)

She didn’t understand, not really. The instructions, yes, but not his game. But she nodded anyway. “Yes, master.”

His gaze sharpened, and he studied her face, perhaps searching for her sincerity. She thought she’d meant it, but whatever he saw didn’t convince him. His eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that,” he growled. “I’ll punish you when I return.”

She didn’t experience dread at that promise. More of a morbid curiosity bordering on excitement. She wondered what more the sadistic alien had in mind for her.

He left her in his chamber.

She climbed on the sleeping platform and gingerly reached down to touch between her legs. The truth was she had no experience with pleasuring herself. It had been forbidden at the training institute, and afterward, she’d never had an interest. She’d spent most of her time disassociated from those parts of her body—from all of her body, really.

Until Rok, she’d never known pleasure of any kind.

What made her wet and ready? She explored her folds with a sort of scientific curiosity. Unpleasant memories of being used while completely dry and ill-prepared rushed in, and a wave of nausea made her stop.

She couldn’t do this.

Rok could do whatever he wanted with her, but she wouldn’t willingly pleasure herself. She just didn’t need that sort of thing.

With her arms stiffly by her sides, she closed her eyes, removing herself from her body and the situation she didn’t know how to handle.

She didn’t know how long it took Rok to return—her sense of time had floated away with her mind.

He frowned when he saw her position on the bed.

She sat up quickly.

“Spread your legs and show me your pussy.”

She bent her knees and opened her feet wide.

“Is she wet for me?” Rok crossed the small space and dragged his thumb across her slit. It caught in her folds. He raised an eyebrow. “What happened?”

Sullenness stole over her—an unfamiliar emotion. Certainly one she’d never allowed

herself to reveal to a master. “I didn’t know how,” she said stiffly.

“No?” Only polite surprise tinged his voice. “I’ll show you, then.” He climbed onto the platform and sat with his back against the wall. After widening his legs, he grasped her around the waist and pulled her back flush against his front, her buttocks nested against the bulge in his flight pants.

He tapped her clitoris lightly with the pad of his index finger. “You know about this spot, I presume.” Tap, tap, tap.

Her sluggish arousal sputtered back to life, blood rushing to the area.

“Did you touch yourself here?”

“No.”

He slapped her pussy, and she yelped, squeezing her thighs around his hand.

“Naughty slave.” He picked her knees up and draped them over the outside of his legs, so they were pinned wide open. “Keep them here, or there will be consequences. I expect your full cooperation with your punishments.”

He slapped her pussy again.

She sucked her breath in across her teeth and threw her head back on his shoulder.

“When I tell you to prepare yourself”—he spanked her poor sex with even, firm slaps— “I expect you to obey me.” He delivered five more and swiped the pad of his finger across her sex.

This time, it slid easily, her natural lubricant flowing.

“That’s better,” he murmured, spreading the moisture up to her clit and tracing a slow, torturous circle around it. “Maybe all you need is my punishment to get you hot.”