Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

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Master of Her World

By

Lily Harlem

Copyright © 2016 by Stormy Night Publications and Lily Harlem

Copyright © 2016 by Stormy Night Publications and Lily Harlem

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

www.StormyNightPublications.com

Harlem, Lily

Master of Her World

Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

Images by The Killion Group, 123RF/Laurin Rinder, and 123RF/seamartini

This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

Chapter One

Briella popped the small black pill into her mouth and swallowed. It would be her last dose of synthetic breath-giving semen. From now on, she’d be having the real thing.

If her tutors were to be believed, it would make her feel truly alive, give her boundless energy, and she’d be able to think with clarity and serve her new master with skill and care.

She hoped with all of her heart they were right.

The land cruiser, with its huge, buoyant, nausea-inducing wheels, rattled across the alien landscape of Roun. Through the small round window opposite Briella, the uneven landscape was made up of the same orange-hued rocks as had stood around the training camp she’d spent the last six weeks in. Where were they now, though? Some rocks smoked, trickles of red vapor leaking out of them. They were driving through volcanic landscape, and not somewhere the all-male Roun citizens lived. They preferred the more temperate climates of the north where the ground wasn’t prone to fissures and wells of boiling water.

The north would be her new home.

Forever.

There was no going back to Zoid.

She closed her eyes and rested her head back, took several deep breaths as the tablet began to work its magic. As the effects of the previous pill had worn off, she’d been aware of her bronchus tightening, of the air her lungs had never been designed to breathe caught in her throat instead of traveling lower. Without the small black pills she wouldn’t have lasted a day at the training camp her king had sent her to. She’d have suffocated within hours.

“You okay?” Nhah asked.

“Fine.” Briella kept her eyes closed but smiled, knowing her best friend was as anxious as her.

“What do you think yours will be like?” Nhah asked.

“I have no idea.”

“But you must have a hope.”

“We’ve discussed this before, many times.” Briella opened her eyes. “I hope only for kindness and a good memory.”

“A good memory?”

“Yes, so he doesn’t forget my medication.”

Nhah twisted her hands together and a frown marred her pretty face. “Yes, a good memory is vital. The tutors told us they must supply us with semen at least three times a day.” She shook her head. “It seems like a lot of effort on their behalf.”

“Really, just relax.” Briella tucked a strand of Nhah’s hair behind her ear. She’d become like a younger sister to her. “Our new masters have been well vetted by the king’s enforcers. They have all agreed to the deal—in return for supplying us what we need to breathe, we will keep their domes clean and tidy, cook, and be at their bidding.”

“I guess.” Nhah sighed and pressed her hands onto her thighs as though willing herself not to fidget. “What if they can’t, you know. Three times…”

“As I said, they’ve been thoroughly vetted. They don’t give Zoid women to just anyone, do they?”

“I guess.” Nhah pulled in a deep breath. “Look, the city is in the distance. We’ll be there soon.”

Sure enough, through the window the outskirts of Ryl, the capital of their new planet was coming into view. All she could see initially were small structures rising from the ground and as the cruiser continued, they grew, becoming needles pointing into the lilac sky. Small airborne cruisers reminded Briella of hovering insects around flowers—her knowledge of both drawn from books at the library back home. There were no flowers left on Zoid. There were also no flowers on Roun. Trees, grass, some animal life, but no flowers.

Not yet.

She curled her toes in her black boots; within the pointed stiletto heels were seeds—sunflower seeds. Weeks ago she’d stolen them, then sneaked them through transport security to the training camp. She’d kept them dry and dark. Then last night, when the tutors were out celebrating the successful graduation of another class of submissive women, she’d put them in her heel. If she said so herself she’d done a good job, as long as the glue she’d used stayed solid, that was.

The vehicle slowed.

Briella glanced around at the women she’d spent the last few weeks with—all of whom had become her friends—and knew this was the last time she’d see them. From now on it would be just her and her master. Her days would be solitary, ones of work in return for life.

The nervous tension was tangible as the engine switched off and silence wrapped around the women. The decision they’d taken to leave Zoid had been a momentous one.

But for her, at least, there’d been no other option.

Zoid was a dying planet, its only sun weak and fading, the nourishment in the soil and the air almost at zero. If life was to go on, the women had Roun as an option, the men the choice of two planets in the distant galaxy.

She hoped her brother would be happy with the one he’d chosen. He’d have to work hard, using his skills as a pilot to ferry the people of Tarn around the galaxy. But in return Tarn would be his new home. A place of safety and the chance of a healthy life.

The rear door swung open, and with a soft hiss the ramp descended.

Briella blinked in the harsh light. It was taking some time to get used to after growing up in near darkness on Zoid.

“Everyone out, your masters await.” Frah, their head tutor, clapped his hands and grinned.

He was no doubt being paid handsomely for his duties, and there was no disputing the fact the slaves looked the part.

Each had on thigh-length black boots teamed with a mini-skirt with short tassels around the hem. Breasts were uncovered, but chests were laced with an intricate pattern of leather straps crisscrossing and weaving from waist to neck. Each wore a collar with a small silver hoop.

Briella stood, along with the other women.

Nhah gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ll miss you, my friend.”

“And I you.” Briella smiled at her. “I wish you a long and happy life.”

“Long only if I’m happy; if not, there is no point and I wish it to be short.”

“You’re right there.”

As they were paraded down the ramp, single file, a row of Roun men came into view. They were tall, broad-shouldered, dressed like warriors going into battle, and each had their arms folded over their chests as they surveyed the new women.

Briella swung her gaze from left to right even though she wasn’t supposed to. Their expressions were stern, some had copious amounts of facial hair, others ink on their skin. If she had to choose one to be her master, she had no idea which she’d pick.

“Eyes down,” Frah shouted, then gave one hard stamp of his foot. “Remember your place, women of Zoid.”

Briella stared at the dusty ground and clasped her hands behind her back, the way she’d been taught to. Her heart was thumping. Beads of sweat popped on her brow.

The ramp to the cruiser drew up again, shutting into place with a resounding clunk.

This was it.

“Slave number one, step up,” Frah called.

A woman known as Kai stepped forward. Briella could just see her out of the corner of her eye.

“Who takes this woman?” Frah shouted toward the men.

“I do.” A deep voice rumbled around the courtyard, the vibration of it seeming to go straight through Briella.

Kai gasped. She was a small, quietly spoken woman. A huge master with a voice that sounded like galaxy thunder would likely scare her half to death.

“Very good, take her,” Frah said.

Kai’s footsteps faded into the distance.

Frah consulted his clipboard. “Slave number two.”

Next to Briella, Nhah pulled in a deep breath. She then took one step forward, jutting her breasts out and twining her fingers behind herself.

“Who takes this woman?” Frah asked.

There was a tense pause, then, “I do.”

Briella was unable to help herself. She glanced up, curiosity about the man who’d claimed her best friend simply too strong to resist.

He was extra tall with long, white-blond hair that floated around his shoulders like a silk curtain. His eyes were pale gray and his mouth wide. On his bare chest he had ink depicting the several moons and suns of Roun, each one a vivid color and surrounded by glittering dust clouds.

Briella had a good feeling about this man. She didn’t know why. But there was a kindness in his eyes, in the way he moved. She hoped that her first instinct was right about him and he’d treat Nhah with respect and consideration. Not that she was afraid of hard work, Nhah would never shy from that, but she was entitled to a life worth living.

Nhah moved away from Briella’s view.

A knot grew in Briella’s belly. She hoped she wouldn’t be sick. Her knees were weak and her palms sweaty.

“Slave number three,” Frah shouted.

Briella stepped forward, keeping her eyes firmly on the ground. Small dusty sprinkles topped the ends of her boots, and their orange glow was startling against the polished black.

“Who takes this woman?” Frah called, his voice echoing through Briella’s head, banging against the insides of her skull.

Whoever answered this question would hold her destiny in their power and her life in their hands.

“I do.”

A tremble spread over her skin. She forced herself to stay looking downward. The man’s voice had rumbled over her body like a supersonic wave, the richness of it settling in her chest. What could she tell from it? Was he kind? A man of morals?

A hand appeared beneath her chin and, to the small black collar around her neck, a lead was attached.

Still she didn’t dare look up.

“This way.”

A tug. She was forced to follow.

He wore boots, worn and scuffed, and tight pants made of soft leather. His ass was high and pert, and a belt appeared to hold a sheathed hammer and chisel. Other than that she didn’t know as she kept her attention lowered.

He led her past Frah and the other men.

“Nice one, Gast,” someone said.

“Always was quick off the mark,” another deep voice muttered.

Were they talking about her? Had her new master beaten other men who’d considered claiming her by speaking up first? Was his name Gast?

She didn’t know and it was the least of her worries right now.

“Keep up,” he said, taking big strides and tugging the lead. “We have a long journey.”

“Yes, Sir.”

She trotted along, aware of her breasts jiggling. A couple of times the lead tightened farther and she had to speed up or risk being pulled over. She’d practiced walking this way, being led, but still, with a Roun man and not another woman from the camp, it was trickier than she’d anticipated.

Soon they were distanced from Frah and the masters waiting to choose their slaves. They moved through a busy street packed with men, their voices loud and brisk, their movements sharp.

Briella didn’t need to look up to know she was the center of all of their attention. Women were few and far between on Roun and their gazes were a heated caress.

“Not much farther,” her new master said, dropping back and wrapping his arm around her waist.

He was hot and strong and propelled her toward an area neatly packed with vehicles.

He pulled open the door of the nearest one. It was much like the vehicle that had brought her to Ryl.

“Belt up,” he said.

“Yes, Sir.”

He dropped the end of the lead onto her lap and slammed the door.

Quickly she did as he’d instructed.

Within seconds he was next to her and driving the car from the lot.

“I don’t care for the cityscape,” he said. “I prefer the mountains to the east.”

“Is that where we’re going, Sir?”

“Yes. That is where my home is.”

And my home now.

She allowed herself a quick glance at him, hoping he wouldn’t catch her and punish her before they’d even reached the east.

He had wild black hair that streamed down his neck and shoulders. His jaw was strong and square and his nose long and proud. He had heavy dark eyebrows and his mouth was set in a grim line.

Unlike Nhah’s new master, he wore a leather waistcoat, the arms hacked off with small threads hanging from where they used to be attached. His bulging biceps were huge, and thick veins and tendons were visible in his forearms.

She looked down at her hands again. He must weigh at least twice as much as her, if not more. If he turned out to be unkind, to have no control when he punished her, she’d likely end up with broken bones or worse.

A shiver went through her, fear of the unknown finally getting the better of her. She’d tried so hard to be brave, keep up the stoic attitude, partly for Nhah’s sake. But the reality was life was going to be so different now. And it all depended on this man.

“My name is Gastion Ribald Newton of Reme,” he said. “I am thirty-one years old. I’m a trained fighter, rock and wood carpenter, and master. I earn my living selling carvings; it doesn’t make much but I like the simple things in life.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You may look at me.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She raised her head.

He glanced at her. For a moment their gaze connected.

Quickly she stared straight ahead, at the dusty road they were now traveling down. She was not permitted to look her master in the eye. That rule had been drummed into her. It was disrespectful and insolent and would earn her a flogging.

“I hope you have been well trained, slave,” he said.

“Yes, master. Very well. I will not disappoint you, I promise.”

“Good.” He paused as he navigated a pothole. “Because I will not tolerate disobedience.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

And she did understand. She’d achieved top marks in the exams and tests during her training. She could prepare Roun food, wash used and dirty clothes so they looked like new, whatever their material. And she could clean, scrub, and polish from suns’ rise to suns’ set.

As long as Gast supplied her with semen, of course. Otherwise she’d run out of breath and be as dead as the trees they were driving past now.

“Fierce storm,” Gast said, obviously following her line of sight. “Took out many trees. We could ill afford it; any plant life is precious here on Roun.”

“Of course, Sir.” She cleared her throat; the dust had made her dry.

“When did you last medicate?” he asked, turning to her.

“Not long ago. Less than an hour, Sir.”

“And you are breathless?” He frowned and turned back to the deserted road.

“No, I’m perfectly fine. It’s just the dust, Sir. Thank you for asking.”

“Your breathing is my responsibility now, slave. If you are short of breath, if you need semen, you are under instruction to ask.”

“Yes, Sir, of course, Sir.”

“Delay in asking, if you allow yourself to become unwell, I will punish you most severely.”

“I would expect nothing less, Sir. I know that you, too, would be punished by the king for allowing a slave to die in your care.”

“Yes, that’s correct.” He paused. “But equally I would not forgive myself.”

Chapter Two

Gast’s dome was set halfway up the mountainside. He parked his vehicle below it in a cleared area and they hiked up a long stone stairway to the flat protrusion it had been built on. He held her lead slack, allowing her the time to navigate the deep steps in her high-heeled boots.

“There was just enough soil for foundations,” he said, indicating the front of the dome. “Though I’ve set the back section into the mountain so it’s anchored when the storms come.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Briella liked it. The building was so different from the dark bricked building she’d lived in on Zoid. This one had huge windows that afforded amazing views over the brightly lit valley, a sheltered doorway, and an enclosed outdoor area that seemed to be used as a workshop. This section was littered with rocks and tools and had a huge stone bench in the center. It was clear Gast spent a lot of time there.

“In, this way,” he said, opening the front door.

She followed him inside, her boots tapping on the hard floor.

“Pay attention as I show you around.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He turned and unfastened the lead, hung it on a small silver hook by the door.

“This is the eating area.” He walked into one of the rooms that had amazing views. It was sparse, clean, functional. A refrigerator with the usual drone entrance porthole stood by the sink—all food in Roun was delivered weekly by drone, the government providing equal sustenance to all inhabitants.

“Here,” Gast said, walking to the far corner. “You’ll find your white cross. In each room there is one.”

“Yes, Sir, of course, Sir.”

“And you know what they are for?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“So tell me.” He folded his arms as he studied her.

“It’s where I must stand, Sir. If I have completed my duties and have taken my medication, I will stand there until you require me to do something else.”

“Yes, that’s correct. And you will face the wall, not the room. I don’t want to be stared at constantly.”

“As you wish, Sir.” She clasped her hands and cast her eyes downward.

“That is as I wish.” He let his colossal arms hang at his sides again. “Come, this way.”

Again she followed him.

He showed her the seating area, a beautiful room set with candles in alcoves built into the wall and a giant blue sofa with cushions she could imagine letting her body melt into.

“Your cross.” He indicated to the white painted cross in the far corner. “Your place in this room.”

“Yes, Sir.” She hid her disappointment. The thought of lounging on the sofa, staring out at the suns and the mountains was heavenly. She could stretch her limbs, yawn, sleep, daydream…

But she wasn’t worthy of any of that. The gift of breathing was all she was owed here. As a Zoid woman, that was the most she could hope for.

He turned and left the room.

She followed.

“Sanitation room with shower fall.” He indicated a door on the right. “And in here,” he paused and faced her, “is where we will sleep.”

She raised her eyebrows.

We?

“I have shocked you?”

“No, Sir. It is whatever you wish, Sir.”

“It’s out of necessity. I built this dome for myself. Never expecting to share my life with anyone, it has only one sleeping area. But the king picked me to be a master, to help save the women of Zoid, and so it becomes a situation where I must share my dome.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” She looked at the floor.

“Don’t be sorry. I felt, once upon a time, to be honored to have been picked by my king for this duty.”

“Once upon a time…?” She gasped. “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean to speak out of turn. It just…” She couldn’t continue.

He stepped close, so close she could smell him; heat and man, musk and leather.

He lowered his face, his nose almost touching hers. “Be careful.”

“Yes, Sir. Forgive me, Sir. I beg you.”

A tendon flexed in his jaw and he narrowed his eyes.

She closed hers, not able to look at her master now that she’d upset him.

Suddenly his body heat disappeared. “Follow me,” he said.

She opened her eyes, spotted his retreating back. Hurriedly, she stepped into the sleeping area.

It took her focus a moment to adjust as it was dark and shadowed. There was no window in this room but a large oil lamp glowed amber in the corner. A huge bed was set against a stone wall, next to it a set of drawers. Beside that a white cross was drawn on the floor and beside a small, low cot with a single pillow and thin cover.

She guessed that was her bed.

But her attention didn’t linger long, because beside the cot was a wooden upright cross; star-shaped, it had leather harnesses at each end and was the perfect size for a person to be strapped to, arms and legs spread.

“Sit on the bed,” Gast instructed.

“Yes, Sir.” She was drawn from her study of the cross. “Er, which bed?”

“This one. Mine.” He indicated the end.

“Of course, Sir. As you wish.” She hurried to where he’d gestured, sat and placed her hands on her lap.

He moved in front of her and cupped her chin in his palm, raised her face to his. “I’m sure they’ve told you that you’ll be medicated by me three times a day.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And it’s up to me how I deliver the semen.” He paused and stroked his thumb over her lips. “In your mouth, your pussy, or your ass, it works the same; each delivery will give you the gift of breathing.”

“Yes, Sir. That’s what I’ve been told.”

He released her face, set the tools that hung on his belt to one side, then undid his buckle. “You’ll receive your first dose now.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

His belt hung limply from his pants as he released the buttons, each one spreading the yawn of material wider around his straining cock.

Briella had never seen a penis before. She’d heard all about their healing powers, their almost magical qualities, and pictures had been pinned on boards at training camp. But this was her first time up close and personal.

Her heart rate rocketed as nervous excitement fizzed through her body. Was he going to deliver her first dose in her pussy? Her ass? Although she had no experience of any of those entry points, she knew she’d have to get used to them all. But right now she just wanted that elusive sensation of being able to breathe deeply. To allow air to sink to the base of her lungs, for her diaphragm to expand and contract and pull into her body what she needed most.

He shoved at his leather pants until they bunched at his thighs. He did the same with the tight undergarment he wore and his cock sprang free.

It was all Briella could do not to gasp in shock.

It was huge. Much bigger than she’d been told or ever imagined. The huge rounded head was glossy and deep red, the shaft long as well as wide and covered in thick twisting veins. It rose from a mass of black hair that traveled up to his navel.

He took hold of it and stroked root to tip.

She glanced up at his face. He was watching her closely. Quickly she dropped her gaze.

He stroked his cock again, quicker this time. It seemed to bob and twitch in his grip.

“Open your mouth,” he instructed.

She stretched her jaw wide.

He stepped in close, real close, so that the tip was almost touching her lower lip.

“Keep still. Very still.” He sounded a little breathless.

He was working his cock faster now, rubbing it in his fist. The sound of flesh on flesh, the friction of his actions, sang around the room.

The slit at the end of his cock widened, a gleaming drip of moisture glinted in the light of the lamp.

Briella squirmed; a strange tugging sensation was pulling between her legs. Heat had built there too. Watching her master prepare his semen was fascinating, exciting, thrilling and she’d never expected to feel so tingly and alive before the medication was even delivered.

“Open,” he said harshly. “Keep your mouth open.”

She realized that her lips had drawn together and quickly widened them again.

“It’s here…” he said, his voice strained. “Take it, slave. Take it all. Every drop.”

He pressed the tip of his cock against her lips. He didn’t shove it into her mouth, just rested it there as semen shot onto her tongue.

“Ah, great stars above,” he groaned. “Yes, drink it up, slave.”

Briella didn’t need telling twice. She swallowed greedily, taking each precious drip of semen Gast gave her. On and on it came, spurt after thick spurt. She swallowed it all, wanting to work his cock more, see if she could tempt additional precious fluid out. But it was not her place to touch him without permission.

“That’s it, that’s your first dose,” he said, pulling back.

Words tumbled into her brain; she wanted to object, tell him to stay right there. To keep spilling semen into her mouth.

But already she could feel the healing effects. It was as if her airways had been quadrupled in size. Cool air was flowing into them, journeying to the very base of her lungs.

He pulled up his undergarment and pants, refastened them, and buckled his belt.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

She sucked in a breath and looked up at him. His cheeks were a little flushed and he was gathering his own breaths quickly.

“I feel… clear.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Go on.”

“As though a pipe has swept into my chest, cleaning as it went, sweeping away dust and cobwebs.”

The right side of his mouth twitched, almost into a smile. “Really?”

“Yes, the soot of Zoid, the carbon and pollution, it’s been brushed away.”

“That pleases me to hear.”

“I want to please you, Sir.”

“Stand.” He hooked his hands beneath her arms and pulled her up. He brushed his left knuckles over her nipple. It was hard and tight, not in its usual soft state.

She looked into his eyes, hoping he wouldn’t berate her for it. But she needed to see if he was speaking the truth.

“We, the men here,” he said, “take each breath for granted until the last. I believe it’s our duty to the galaxy to sustain life however that may have to come about. While you are here in my dome, you will always be sustained, do not doubt that.”

“Thank you, you’ve made me very happy already, Sir.”

“I’m just stating facts.” He released her and stepped away. “And now, as the government has mandated, I must make you aware of your punishments if you are disobedient.”

She swallowed and the lingering taste of his semen slithered down her throat. “Yes, Sir.”

“Stand by the wooden cross.”

Of course. She’d always known this would happen. It had been spoken of. Only she’d thought, hoped, it was an unsubstantiated rumor, and that perhaps it wouldn’t be true.

But it was.

With her heart plummeting and her new breaths quickening, Briella walked up to the cross and stood facing it.

Gast was quickly behind her. He reached for her arms, harnessed them to the top slats. Then stooped and did the same to her ankles with the base slats.

With one quick movement her short skirt was removed, exposing her bare buttocks.

She closed her eyes, clenched her fists so hard her fingernails dug into her palms. It would be over soon, this punishment. She had to take it, had to be brave. It was what her master wanted from her. It was as agreed between her king and his.

Where he’d tugged her skirt away, an imprint of tension at her waist had been left. He’d snapped the skirt off; she hoped it would still be wearable. The clothing items she’d arrived in were her only possessions.

He huffed out a breath as he smoothed his palm over her buttocks.

She pressed her cheek against the top of her right arm. Her limbs were stretched, extended; she was so exposed, so vulnerable.

He had her.

She was his to do with as he pleased.

“You’re a fine specimen of your species,” he said, his voice low and murmuring.

She wasn’t sure if he’d required a response but she mumbled, “Thank you, Sir.”

Suddenly something hit her—something hard and fierce and sharp that seemed to possess a thousand fingers.

She cried out and twisted, desperate to see the implement that had raged fire on her buttocks.

It was a flogger. Flame red, it hung loose and limp in his hand as though it hadn’t just flown through the air and licked wild heat over her skin.

“Keep still,” he said, his voice stern. He awakened the flogger by flicking the thin, mean strands against his thigh. The sharp snap splintered through her brain.

She had no damn choice but to keep still. He’d harnessed her to the cross. She was going nowhere.

Again the flogger lashed over her skin.

She bucked against the wood, her mound coming into contact with the joins of the wooden slats. Biting down on her bottom lip, she held in the shriek that had welled in her newly cleared lungs.

Fuck. That had really hurt.

Again she was hit.

Then again.

Again.

She closed her eyes, groaned long and low. Screaming and crying would get her nowhere. She had to take a punishment as well as she could take her treatment. Without complaint, without protest.

That was the deal.

But she hoped punishments would be few and far between.

As the burn extended over her skin, spreading from her poor abused buttocks, she vowed not to upset her master. She’d learn from this. She’d do her best to always obey. To be a good slave, worthy of his medication.

She thought of what she looked like to him. Hanging there, wrists and ankles shackled, and legs spread. Her ass was bright red; she didn’t need to see it to know it. The breath in her lungs was expelled with each thwack.

Finally the lashes stopped. Cool air basted her hot flesh. She slumped, exhausted, her body not her own. Happy to let blackness wash over her, she allowed her head to droop, the effort of keeping it up too much.

“Hey, I’ve got you.”

Strong hands slid over her body.

Was she dreaming?

Carefully, she was lifted from the cross. She found herself horizontal, her head on a soft pillow and a light blanket covering her.

She breathed deep, the unfamiliar scent of orange rocks and Gast’s skin drifting into her nostrils.

“Sleep now.” A gentle hand stroked over her crown. “Sleep now that it’s over.”

She stayed locked in her world of pain. Her thoughts were jumbled. Images tumbled through her mind, disjointed and muddled.

Where was she?

What had happened?

She could finally breathe.

Chapter Three

“Slave, wake up.”

Briella twisted on the bed then gasped as her painful behind rubbed on the sheets.

“Now. Open your eyes. Stand. They’re here.”

She blinked, disoriented as to where she was. Then she saw her new master pulling on his trousers and doing up his belt buckle. “Yes, Sir,” she murmured, her throat dry and her chest tight.

Who was here?

“I need you up and in the eating room. On your white cross.” He clapped. “Now!”

“Yes, yes, Sir.” She shoved at the covers of her low cot and stood. Her legs were a little shaky and for a moment the world spun. She was short on air; the effect of the semen the night before had worn off.

But she couldn’t let her master down.

He thrust her tiny skirt at her. “Be quick or I will thrash you again with the flogger.”

“Yes, Sir. As you wish, Sir.” She wrapped and fastened her skirt into position, then stumbled from the room. Using the wall for support, she made her way down the narrow hallway.

As she reached the eating room, she was aware of Gast’s arm around her waist, supporting her, urging her forward.

She made it to the cross as a several loud bangs rattled around the dome.

“Stand still and submissive,” he said against her ear, his breath hot and shivering over her scalp. “Or we will both be punished by the enforcers.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He was gone.

Voices.

In the hallway.

Then behind her.

“She is in position?”

“Yes, of course.” Gast’s voice.

Briella clasped her hands behind her back and set her shoulders down. It was the way she’d been shown at the training camp. She also cast her gaze to the floor and kept her feet hip width apart.

Footsteps behind her.

“She is behaving?”

“Yes. No altercations thus far.” Gast was behind whoever else had spoken, his deep voice a fraction farther away.

Briella breathed in as deep as she could, wishing she had a pill to take, or that Gast had medicated her as soon as she’d woken.

“And you have shown her the punishment she’ll endure if she steps out of line.”

“Of course,” Gast said.

Cool air fluttered over her hot ass cheeks. Her skirt had been raised.

“Well and truly thrashed,” Gast said. “As you can see.”

“Yes, excellent.”

Her skirt fell into position again. Briella wondered who and how many gazes had observed her beaten red buttocks. Was there just one enforcer or more? It had sounded like several footsteps entering the room.

“And she has been medicated?” A different voice. So there was more than one of them.

“Yes, naturally. Though she is due more.” Gast appeared to be holding his patience. “As soon as you are done here.”

“We are almost done.”

Silence.

“What more do you need?” Gast asked.

“Where is she sleeping?”

“On the floor.”

“In the same room you sleep?”

“It’s the only place.”

“It’s breaking the rules.”

“It’s how it has to be. You can see that my dome is not big.”

“This eating room would be adequate for her to sleep in.”

“If that’s what you prefer, I will move her cot in here at night.”

“Yes. That’s what we’d call sticking to the rules.”

“Consider it done.”

“It had better be.” The enforcer’s voice lowered. “You wouldn’t like to lose this one, too, would you?”

This one too?

Briella’s chest was rising and falling rapidly. She stared down at her bare feet.

Had Gast had another woman from Zoid? And if so, what had happened to her? Had he thrashed her too much? Forgotten to medicate her?

A shiver snaked up her spine and her teeth clattered. She held in a small whimper.

“As you can see,” Gast said. “I really should get to the task of medicating my slave.”

“Yes, I can observe that for myself,” the enforcer said. “We will go now. But be prepared for drop-in visits, Gastion. The king is insisting upon it for all new arrivals.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

“And remember, the slave parade, it will be soon. Every master is expected to display their woman.”

“Of course.” More tension in Gast’s voice.

Briella tightened her fingers together. A ball of anxiety was growing in her belly. She needed Gast’s semen. It had been hours since her first dose. She wanted that freeing, delicious stream of air sinking to the base of her lungs again.

“I’ll be keeping a watch on you,” the enforcer said, a twinge of challenge in his tone.

Gast didn’t reply. Instead more footsteps, then the sound of the dome’s front door shutting.

Briella looked up at the curved orange roof and clasped her hands in front of herself.

“You did well.”

She startled slightly. Gast was right behind her.

He placed his hands on her shoulders. His palms were hot and callused as he smoothed down her arms. When he reached her joined hands he stroked up her belly to her breasts.

He cupped each one, as though testing their weight in his palms.

She enjoyed his delicate touch and her nipples tightened.

“The enforcers rule with an iron rod,” he said, tweaking her nipples. “They forget that although you are an alien woman here in Roun, you still have feelings.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He knew she had feelings? Wasn’t she supposed to be his slave and devoid of any kind of emotion? That’s how she’d been taught to project herself. Masters didn’t want any show of feelings, so she’d been told. She was there to serve and in payment she’d be medicated so she could breathe.

He slid his hands higher, settling his fingertips around her throat. “You’re breathless?”

“Yes… Sir.”

“Then I will medicate you.” He tugged at her skirt, gentler this time.

Relief went through her body. Easy breathing would soon be hers.

Would he administer his semen orally again? Or did he have other plans?

“Widen your legs.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He slid his hands around her waist, then tickled through the fluff of hair that led to her pussy.

So that was to be today’s delivery point.

She shut her eyes. She’d heard tales of this. That it was painful. Roun men’s cocks were too big for Zoid women. There’d be blood and tears. She’d have to be brave and stoic to get through it.

The tutors hadn’t mentioned it, of course, not wanting to scare the women. But at night, in the dormitory, the women had whispered shared secrets that they’d snatched from women who’d returned unable to cope and preferring a smog-filled breathless existence.

Gast parted her pussy lips, spreading the first section wide with two fingers.

The small bundle of nerves that had tingled yesterday as he’d medicated her mouth was exposed to the air.

“You will wear this on your clitoris,” he said. “Whenever I give you semen into your ass or pussy.”

“What, Sir… I mean, yes, Sir… ah…”

He’d set something, a small pad, over that bundle of nerves. It clung like a magnet, hot and secure, and it buzzed, vibrated, sent shockwaves of awareness over her body.

“Oh…” she gasped. “What is it?” Her knees weakened and she closed her eyes.

“It’s something I designed. To make it easier for you to bear your medication.” He pressed his lips to her ear. “Do you like it, slave?”

“I like it if you like it, Sir.”

“That’s not what I asked.” He slapped her ass, hard.

She jerked forward with a gasp.

Damn, that hurt. Her skin was already raw.

“Tell me. Do you like it?”

“Ow, oh, yes… sorry, Sir. Yes, I like it.” And she did. Her female hole was clenching, it was dampening, too. The vibrating pad was building pressure inside of her. She didn’t know how or why, but it was like a swarm of butterflies collecting around a flower, and that flower was her pussy. The image of flowers and butterflies that she’d seen in a book filled her mind; it made her a little dreamy.

“Good.” He steered her from the corner, and bent her over the counter so she was looking out of the window at the beautiful rocky view. “Now try and relax. This first time will hurt. There’s nothing I can do about that.”

“Yes, Sir.” She was panting now, the stimulation down below catching her breath as much as the extraterrestrial atmosphere was. “But I need it, Sir. The semen in my pussy.”

“Yes, you do.” He caressed her buttocks as he parted her legs wider with his booted feet. “You need it if you are to live until midday.”

Her pussy was wet, as if moisture would soon leak from her. She hoped that wouldn’t infuriate him. Perhaps he preferred to have his slave dry.

“You are permitted to cry out, slave, when this pains you.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He slipped his fingers through her folds and pushed into her pussy.

Briella didn’t cry out. She closed her eyes and allowed a groan to rumble through her chest. Far from hurting, her master’s fingers added to the intensity of the vibrations over her… what had he called it… clitoris.

“You’re wet, slave.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I don’t know why or how that’s happened.” She pulled in a weak breath and felt thoroughly ashamed of herself. “Shall I go and dry myself for you?”

He chuckled. “That won’t be necessary.”

He stretched her with his fingers, easing her tight flesh wider.

She moaned and bucked against the counter, pressing the vibrating pad harder onto her clitoris. She’d thought many things about this moment. But never this. Never having such a maelstrom of sensations besieging her.

“I need to prepare you,” he said. “I’m sorry but it’s necessary.”

“Yes. I heard of this, Sir.”

A sudden sharp, knifelike pain shot through her pussy.

This time she did cry out. His fingers had changed from a pleasant filling sensation to a whip of fire.

“That’s it,” he said. “Now I can medicate you so breathing will be easy once more.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”

He withdrew and gripped her hips. The smooth head of his cock sat at her entry point.

He pushed in.

So wide. So thick. Impossible to take.

She stared, unblinking, at the landscape, mouth open in a silent scream as he forged forward, holding her tight.

It was pain, it was pressure, it was like nothing else in any world.

“That’s it, take it, slave,” he said. “Take all of your master.”

“Yes… Sir.”

On and on he went, parting her delicate tissues, filling her up. She was sure he wouldn’t get it all into her, but when his body hair scratched against her beaten ass she knew he’d seated fully.

“Ah, yeah…” he said. “That’s it. It’s nearly here for you now.”

“Oh… oh… but…”

“But what?”

“Oh, but, Sir. My clitoris, the thing you put there.”

“It’s getting too much?”

“Yes, Sir. I don’t know…”

“You don’t know what’s going to happen? I do. And don’t fight it, slave, let’s make a woman out of you.”

He didn’t think she was a woman?

A tear sprang in her eye. So what did he think she was?

The vibrations were becoming too much. It was as if they were trying to drive her to boiling point. Where was this pressure going to go? She needed to release it. There was so much of it in her body. It was blissful agony trying to contain it.

She clenched her internal muscles around the big alien male cock inside of her, twisted on the counter.

He groaned, then, “Keep still.”

“Yes, Sir, sorry, Sir… oh… ah…” Her words trailed off. The pressure in her clitoris had reached explosion point. She could do nothing about it. In one almighty pulse of sensation, her entire body seemed to contract around her master’s cock.

She screamed, not knowing what was happening but feeling sure a severe beating would follow. How could she show so little respect for her master? He was giving her the gift of life and she was a writhing, noisy, wet mess on his counter. Not only that, she was clenching around his cock as though her body might actually break it.

“Fuck, yeah…” He tightened his grip on her hips and released his semen into her.

She was aware of it flooding her pussy then soaking into her body.

She drew in a deep breath; instantly the air rushed to the base of her lungs. She used it to cry out again as the release blistered over her skin in pulses of pleasure.

More air sped into her, filling her lungs, her bloodstream.

Tears rolled from her eyes. Surely the soles of her feet would be beaten for this and whatever other part of her body her master wanted to mark with his flogger or cane or whichever other instrument of torture he liked to use.

He stilled, his cock stopped spurting medication into her. The grip on her hips slackened.

He was breathing fast; she could hear him and feel it hot on her naked back.

“I’m so sorry, Master. Please forgive me.” She tried to hold in a rib-shaking sob but failed.

He didn’t speak. Instead he slipped his hand around to the front of her pussy and tugged the vibrating patch off.

She let out a sigh of relief. After the tumble into a place she never thought her body could go, so out of control, soaked in taut pleasure, the sensation had become too much.

“You’ll stay in that position for five minutes,” he said, opening the window in front of her and allowing the fresh air to flow into the dome. “To ensure, this first time, that the semen is soaked into your body via your pussy. Then clean yourself up and make my morning food.”

“Yes, Sir.” She dashed at the tears on her face. “Of course, Sir. As you wish, Sir.”

Oh, God, he was going to beat her after he’d eaten. He wanted to have his strength from the meal so he could lash her harder. Maybe she should have stayed on Zoid and let the pollution eat her lungs, die a slow death. Perhaps this choice, one that had been hailed as the best choice, was actually the worst.

Chapter Four

Briella tore herself from admiring the landscape and the sky’s three suns, and walked into the sanitation room. Being able to breathe without thinking about it was a luxury. But in its place sat a new discomfort.

She ached between her legs. Her pussy felt raw and her clitoris swollen.

She flicked on the overhead water stream and stepped into the cool flow. She winced as the water slid over her smarting ass, then flinched as she ran her hand between her legs.

A splash of red landed on the floor, splattering by her feet.

Blood.

She’d known there would be blood this first time, had been told by the training college to expect this. Even so that hadn’t prepared her for seeing it.

And why had no one ever mentioned the device Gast had placed on her, or the out-of-control sensations it would produce?

Gingerly, she washed herself, then dried and put on her straps and skirt again. She wondered if Gast would want her in her boots but decided to leave them off for now. It would be easier to prepare his food quickly and efficiently if she was barefoot.

He’d said he’d invented the vibrating stimulant he’d applied to her. That she would wear it when receiving medication into her pussy or ass. But what would spur him into creating such a thing for a slave? Was it not enough that he was giving life, let alone this dangerously nice stimulus at the same time?

She touched her clitoris. She’d never given that tiny bead a name before. Hadn’t known that it had any kind of function on her body. But now it was delicately engorged and when she pressed it she could recall the blast of sensation it had taken from the pad.

“Slave. What are you doing?”

She jumped and stared at the closed door. “Sorry, Sir.”

“Where is my food?” he called from the other side.

“I’ll get it now, Sir. Sorry.” She tugged open the door.

He stood before her. Bare-chested, hands on his hips. A scowl marred his face and his hair hung wild and long.

“I have given you what you need. Do you think it’s wise to keep me waiting for what I need?”

“No, not at all, I was just—”

His frown deepened.

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” She scooted past him and into the eating area.

Quickly, and with her heart pounding, she set about making the protein and carbohydrate slab that all Roun men ate in the morning. It needed only to be sliced and heated.

She set it on the table along with hot water and a bowl of sugar, just the way she’d been taught. There was only one chair at the table.

As she straightened, Gast walked into the room.

He let his gaze slip over the food and then her, resting for a moment on her naked breasts.

“Your food, Sir.”

“In the corner.” He turned from her.

“Yes, Sir.” Hurrying to obey, she quickly stood on her cross and faced the wall, hands clasped.

The room was quiet except for the sound of him eating and the stirring of sugar into the water.

When he’d finished, he scraped his chair back and left. His footsteps faded, then disappeared completely and Briella guessed he’d gone outside.

Quickly, and with a dart of hunger piercing her belly, she turned to the table.

He’d left a chunk of his breakfast slab and a few inches of sugar water.

Briella dashed up to it. Grabbing the food, she shoved it into her mouth. She munched and swallowed, crumbs fell onto the table. She was so hungry she couldn’t help herself, couldn’t stop. Without feeling guilty she rammed in his wasted meal. The tutors had informed the women this was how they’d eat. Leftovers, scraps, what their masters didn’t need.

“What the…?”

She froze.

Gast was in the doorway, his eyes wide and his mouth slack.

She gasped and flicked food from her chest, frustrated when a chunk stuck to a drip of sweet water. She then fled to the corner.

He was furious. She’d seen it in his eyes.

But why? That food had been for her. It was what slaves ate. They had to have some sustenance.

“I hadn’t told you to feed,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

He was right. Her heart sank. She hadn’t been given permission to take his leftovers. The tutor’s voice sang in her ears, telling the women they must always wait. If they didn’t there’d be a price to pay.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I forgot, I was so hungry. I’m still learning.”

“It seems you have a lot to be sorry for and a lot to learn.”

“Yes, and I am sorry. And I will learn.” A tremble started in her belly and traveled outward, spreading to her arms and legs. She hoped she wouldn’t vomit the food back up and spread it on the floor.

He was silent.

Suddenly his hands were on her. Slipping over her hot flesh, sliding around her waist and up and over her breasts.

She held her breath, enjoying his exploration of her curves, even though she knew she had no right to. She was his slave to touch as he pleased.

The heat of his body warmed her back and his breaths blew gently on her hair as he tweaked her nipples, pulling them to hard points and rolling them between his big fingers and thumbs.

His touch swept around to the small of her back and then over her skirt, he rubbed her buttocks.

She winced; they were still sore. The pressure hurt.

“I should spank you for your disobedience,” he said, his voice a low growl by her ear.

“Yes, Sir.” Oh, please, no. Not on top of what she’d already taken. She didn’t think she’d be able to take it. Maybe she’d even beg to go back to her doomed planet.

“I should take the cane or the whip to you. That’s what an enforcer would insist. You must learn your place, slave.”

“It’s your choice, Sir, but I promise I will learn my place.” She closed her eyes as he continued to stroke her buttocks.

A quiver attacked her belly. It was nowhere near medication time but she was a little breathless.

“But not today,” he said, his lips moving against the shell of her ear.

“Thank you, Sir. As you wish, Sir.”

“Consider last night’s flogging as punishment for not waiting to be told to eat.”

“Thank you, Sir. You’re very kind.”

He huffed. “I don’t know about that.” He gave both of her buttocks a squeeze.

She cried out, then bit on her bottom lip.

“But I am fair,” he said.

“Yes, Sir. I’m very lucky to be here with you.”

He stepped away. “I have work to do. At the front of the dome. While I’m busy I expect you to be busy also. You will sweep each room, removing all traces of dust. The eating room and sanitation area need sterilizing and the beds shaken to remove rock dust.” He paused. “I trust the training center taught you how to perform these duties.”

“Of course, Sir. And I’ll get straight to them.”

“You will. Once you’ve finished eating.”

“Yes, Sir.” A sense of relief washed through her. She counted her lucky stars. She was allowed to finish the food and she wasn’t going to be flogged or caned.

She really didn’t deserve such a kind master. Her behavior was off course and she needed to try better.

Once Gast had left the room, she quickly finished the meal slab and sugar water, glad of the food that would give her energy for the tasks ahead of her. She then set about scrubbing and cleaning the eating room, starting with the refrigerator, then wiping out all of the storage areas. Rock dust had collected in the corners of the room and around the window and she took great care to remove every last grain. The last thing she wanted was for her master to find particles of orange dirt in his meal.

The constant clink, click of his hammer and chisel tapped around the dome. The sound was muted and she wondered if he was working on wood rather than rock.

Once the eating room was sparkling and her fingers were wrinkled from holding the hot wiping cloth, Briella headed into the seating area. From here she could see Gast hard at work in his open-air workshop. The scenery behind him was dramatic. A vast orange plain lined with mountains that smoked and a deep black crevice shaped like a lightning bolt. Above him the three suns, two small and one large, glowed in various shades of red. A wispy lilac cloud had sloped across the full moon near the horizon.

But if the scenery was breathtaking, Gast was more so. As he worked his muscles bunched and flexed beneath his golden skin. He was hot, the strands of his hair damp against his neck and shoulders. And his leather pants, the way they strained over his ass as he bent forward, it was enough to give Briella that delightful tingling feeling again.

She’d never expected this. Had presumed that she’d have an old, ugly master at whose hands she would suffer in order to breathe. But Gast… there was something about him. He was larger than life, seemed to have extra high levels of testosterone in his alien blood, and damn, she was sure he’d be good in a crisis. Certainly someone to have on her side.

She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and turned away. Why on earth was she having such fanciful thoughts about her master? It was not her place to do so. He was her ruler. In his home, she was his possession. There was no place for admiration, for attraction, for thinking that she might ever mean more to him than the duty of his species to hers.

He paused and stretched out his back, the gutter of his spine elongating as he extended his arms over his head as though they were stiff. He drew the back of his hand over his damp brow, eyes closed, and blew out a breath.

Quickly, before he caught her staring, Briella began brushing grimy orange dust motes from the corners of the window. She put on an expression of extreme concentration should he look and assess her seriousness about her task.

For a moment he was quiet and she wondered if he was observing her through the glass. Then his repetitive clunk, clunk started up again. She speculated about what he was making; if it was something for the dome or something to sell.

As she scooped up the ash from the fire pit, she heard an extra loud thwack and then a yelp.

She straightened and turned to the window

“Ah, mother of three suns,” Gast shouted. He threw down his hammer and clutched his left hand.

“Oh, no.” Briella dropped the dustpan and brush and rushed from the seating area. She sped out into the heat of the day and into the workshop. Rushing past an assortment of rocks and wood and a pile of shavings, she reached Gast. “What have you done?”

“My blasted hand,” he said, holding up his right hand. “Got it with the hammer.”

“Oh, no, let me look. Sir.”

He winced as he released it.

“That’s it.” She carefully took his forearm in her palm and urged his hand lower so it was level with her face.

His knuckles were swelling already, and a dark purple bruise was spreading over the back of his hand.

“Can you move your fingers?” she asked.

He sucked in a breath and frowned. His fingers moved a fraction.

“I think, if you permit me to say so, that you should put ice on this injury.”

“And you know this how?”

“It’s something they teach us, at training camp. Basic emergency medical know-how.”

“There are ice packs in the refrigerator.”

“I’ll go and get one.” At a swift pace, Briella headed into the eating room. She quickly found what she was looking for and was soon back at her master’s side.

The ice pack was in a soft white bag, and as she carefully rested it over Gast’s knuckles, she shaped it to the contours of his bones.

“How’s that, Sir,” she asked, her breaths coming fast out of both worry and moving quickly.

“Much better,” he said quietly.

She looked up at him.

“Thank you, slave.”

Chapter Five

A pleasant sensation went through Briella. She’d pleased her master, so much so that he’d thanked her. It was so much more than she’d ever hoped and she was still on her first full day with him.

But oh, his hand looked so sore. She worried if he’d ever be able to work again. Then what would they do?

As she held the cool pack in place, the suns beat down on her shoulders. The scents of the extraterrestrial landscape filtered into her nose as did the smell of fresh sweat from her master’s body.

His nipples, level with her line of sight, were small dark disks, between them a scrawl of black chest hair. She dared to look lower, admiring the way the muscles in his belly were stacked and how his skin glowed like the finest bronze statues in Zoid museums.

Was Nhah admiring her master, too? Had her best friend found a man who was pleasing on the eye to her, or would she have to take her medication from someone she found repulsive?

A wave of gratitude went through Briella that Gast was such a fine specimen of his species and along with that also seemed, so far, to be fair.

She let out a sigh.

“We should go indoors, slave. Your body has not yet accustomed to outdoor air.”

“I like it, Sir, the outdoors,” she said. “To be able to see into the distance is a treat. For so long I’ve been barely able to see ten feet ahead of myself, because of the smog. Whereas this,” she gestured at the horizon, “is beyond beautiful, even if it isn’t my home.”

“It’s your home now.”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Thanks to your kindness.”

“Kindness has nothing to do with it. It’s my duty to the galaxy.” He glanced up at the suns. “And soon it will be time for your next medication. Have you finished your duties?”

“Almost, Sir. I was nearly finished when…” She nodded at his hand.

“Yes, of course.” He lifted his painful hand and held the cold pack in place himself. “Get me a drink, please.”

“Yes, of course, Sir. Where would you like it?”

“In the seating area if that’s clean now.”

“Yes, it is. I’ll get it straight away. The drink, that is, Sir.”

Again she rushed to the eating room, glad once more that she was barefoot, which meant she could do her master’s bidding quicker. As she moved, her breasts jiggled and the short stiff skirt abraded her ass cheeks.

After filling a glass with water, clean and clear and straight from the tap in the refrigerator, Briella went back into the seating area. She walked very carefully, being careful not to spill a drop of the potable liquid.

“Here you are, Sir. Is there anything else?”

He was sat on the sofa, staring out at his workshop. “No, that’s it.” He took the drink and sipped, holding his painful hand aloft.

“I will continue my tasks, Sir, if you have no more need of me.”

“But you have need of me.” He tipped his head and studied her. “I can see that you’re a little out of breath. It’s time for your medication.”

“Yes, Sir. If that is your wish, Sir.”

“It is, though…” He handed her the glass and pressed the cold pack over his injured hand. “I’m rather indisposed.” He shook his head and frowned.

“What can I do to help?”

“You may have to help yourself.” He glanced at his groin.

“Yes, Sir. Just tell me how.”

He muttered and shifted on the seat, his big body making the frame creak.

“I’m so sorry, Sir.”

“It isn’t your fault, it’s mine. I was rushing to finish something and now I have inconvenienced us both.”

“I’m here to do your bidding. Please tell me what I can do to assist.”

He adjusted the cold pack, wincing as he did so.

She hated to see him in pain. It almost hurt her.

“Undo my trousers and release my cock,” he said.

“Yes, Sir.” Briella sat between her master’s spread legs, her knees bent beneath her. She fumbled for a moment with his hefty belt buckle, then released the opening of his pants.

He hoisted his hips into the air. Tried to shove at his trousers but twisted his hand and hissed out a breath that held a curse.

“I can do it,” she said. “Let me, please, Sir. Don’t hurt yourself further.”

“Yes, you’ll have to.” He shook his head and grimaced. Being incapacitated clearly didn’t sit well with him.

Briella pulled down his pants and undergarments. His cock sprang forward as though eager to see her.

“Sir?” She looked up at him, wondering what she should do. She needed instruction.

“Take it,” he said. “Hold it, tight but not too tight.”

She did as he’d told her, grasping the hot, hard shaft in both of her hands. It was like velvet over steel, heat burned from him, the skin was so smooth on her palms.

“Now rub,” he said, “from the base to the tip, twist slightly when you get to the tip.”

“Yes, Sir.” She pulled her hands upward. As she did so, the girth seemed to swell farther and the flesh hardened.

He gritted his teeth.

“Have I hurt you, Sir?”

“No, that’s it. That’s how it should feel.” He nodded and his nostrils flared. “Do it faster, slave.”

“Yes, Sir. Please instruct me.”

“They didn’t teach you at the training camp?”

“No, Sir. I guess it was presumed masters would release their own semen.”

He kind of huffed. She didn’t know why.

Briella slid her hand root to tip again, twisting just before she hit the flared head.

Gast dropped his head back on the sofa, his injured hand clasped at his chest. “Ah… slave…”

“That is right?”

“Yes, like that… more… don’t stop.”

Encouraged, Briella continued to work her master’s big cock. The way it felt in her hand, sturdy, powerful, the giver of breath, had her captivated. She sped up, enjoying the gurgling groan that vibrated in his chest.

She figured it felt good, otherwise he would have reprimanded her.

“Catch it, soon. In your mouth,” he said breathlessly. “Hurry.”

“Yes, Sir.” She went up onto her knees, not pausing in her rhythm.

“The semen is coming.” His penis was harder still, his belly tense and his chest rising and falling rapidly. A pearly drip of fluid sat in the slit.

“Oh, sons of the stars, yes…” He bucked his hips. “Keep going, slave.”

Faster and faster she went, tipping her head over the end of his cock so she could sup the life-giving fluid when it arrived.

Her arms and hands ached.

He was gasping.

Her heart was racing.

His cock was rock hard.

She didn’t know why she did it, but Briella tipped forward, opened her mouth, and sank onto his length. She wrapped her lips around his penis and hugged his shaft with her tongue. Still working the base of his erection she sucked and stroked, took in the first salty drip of his essence.

“Holy stars above,” he gasped. “What…?”

Was she in trouble? Maybe she’d broken an unmentioned rule. She didn’t care. It was so good to have the head of his cock tickle the base of her throat, and now… now thick fluid was rushing into her.

She swallowed greedily, running her hands up and down the very base of his thick shaft. He was pulsing in her mouth and bucking his hips.

On and on the copious fluid filled her throat. She drank it all and as she did so, despite being out of breath, excited, aroused, she was aware of her breaths traveling deeper into her lungs.

“Oh, slave, oh, seven stars and moons,” Gast said on a panting breath. “Yes, that’s it.”

He shifted.

She lifted up, catching his erection in her palm. “Sir?”

“Where the…? How…?”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” Panic flooded her. Had she done a terrible thing? Had she gone way beyond what a slave was allowed to do? Perhaps this would be the end for her here on Roun, banishment her next port of call.

But damn, it had felt good to take his cock like that.

She cast her eyes downward and quickly assisted in tucking his penis away. Swallowing the last of his semen, she sat back on her heels, hands clasped in her lap.

“Slave,” he whispered, leaning forward. “Do you have a name?”

“Briella of the Eastern Valley.”

“Well, Briella of the Eastern Valley…”

She was aware of him leaning forward, coming closer to her.

“Who in all of the galaxies told you to do that?”

“What, Sir?” She knew what, but asked the question anyway, stalling for thinking time.

“Who told you to do that?” he repeated incredulously.

Blast it. He was going to cane her now, she was sure of it. Over her sore ass…

“Who told you to take a penis into your mouth and drink like that?”

“No one told me, Sir.”

“They must have.”

“No.” She shook her head. “They didn’t, that’s the honest truth.”

“So why did you do it?”

“It just felt right.” She risked a glance up at him.

His features were soft, as if he was curious more than furious.

“It felt right?” he asked.

She nodded and looked at her lap again. “Yes, Sir. I’m so sorry, Sir. If I’ve offended you. If I hurt you.”

“No, you didn’t hurt me.”

“Offend you?”

“No.” He paused. “Look at me.”

She raised her head. Let her gaze connect with his.

“Come closer,” he said, his voice quiet but a flash searing over his irises.

She went up onto her knees.

“More.”

She moved until her face was level with his. So their noses almost touched.

“Put your mouth on mine,” he said.

“Yes, Sir.” She remained still, as if frozen to the spot.

“Do it. Now. “

She did as her master had told her, pressing her lips over his, slanting slightly so they didn’t bump noses.

He parted his lips a little, touched his tongue to hers. She held in a gasp of surprise. He moved closer, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, as though tasting her now.

She overbalanced, catching his wide thighs for support. He didn’t object so she stayed still as he continued to explore her mouth with his tongue.

The sensation wasn’t unpleasant. In fact she liked it. Her master tasted delicious—man and heat and an earthy flavor that was nurturing and clean. On and on he swept over her tongue, moved his lips against hers.

Soon they were doing a dance with their mouths. Her breaths were clean and clear. He was feeding her with something that was making her soul feel good, as though setting it alight with a spark she couldn’t identify, couldn’t put a name to.

Eventually he pulled back.

His lips were shiny, his eyebrows pulled low. “Do you know what that’s called?”

“No, Sir.”

“That’s a kiss.”

“A kiss?”

“Yes, I just kissed you. Did you like it?”

“Yes, Sir. Very much.” She paused. “If it pleases you that I like it.”

The right side of his mouth twitched, almost as if he were about to smile. “Yes, I want you to like it if I decide to kiss you.”

Her head was spinning. So he wasn’t angry that she’d sucked his cock? He’d enjoyed pressing his mouth to hers? “I do like it.”

“Good, because I might do it again, slave.”

She glanced away.

“You have a question?”

“Yes.” Oh, but she shouldn’t have. She knew that. It wasn’t her place to question.

“So ask me.” He sat back and held his painful hand close to his chest, repositioning the cold pack. “What’s in your head that you don’t understand?”

There was so much. Where to start? She opted for the most pressing matter. “Do you like kissing me, Sir?”

“Yes.” He tipped his head and studied her. “You’re pretty and sweet and you taste better than any of the food the government sends.”

“I do?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

He stood suddenly. “It’s time to continue with our work.”

She shifted out of his way. “But your hand?”

“I’ll apply Galico Moon’s poppy salve. Within a few hours I will be healed.”

“Yes. Of course.” She’d heard of Galico poppy salve and its almost magical properties. Not that they had any on Zoid.

“And while I heal, you can sweep the roof.”

“The roof?”

“Yes.” He frowned. “It’s not a hard task now that you’ve been medicated.”

“No, I mean, yes, of course, Sir.”

“There’s a broom by my workbench. Be sure to get the grass weeds out from between the tiles. The roots are a menace.”

“I will, Sir. Straight away.”

“And for goodness’ sake, don’t fall off.”

“I’ll try not to, Sir.”

Chapter Six

Briella found the broom, which had stiff witchy bristles, and headed around the left side of the dome. She faced a steep set of stairs carved out of the side of the mountain with a makeshift rope handrail.

But she wasn’t fazed. She was full of energy, her body for once feeling like she could accomplish anything. She was alive, her breaths free and easy and her thoughts straight. Gone were the sluggish, listless mannerisms of old. No longer a weak and fragile person, she was prepared for the challenge.

She stomped up the steps, the heat of the three suns warm on her shoulders and breasts, and the muscles in her thighs working the way they should. She smiled, a real smile that balled her cheeks and crunched up the corners of her eyes.

For so long she’d worried about coming to Roun, but within a short space of time she felt at ease. It was the physical wellness, she was sure. Gast’s healing semen that afforded her breath was a tonic to her mind as well as her body.

When she reached the top of the roof, she blinked in the harsh light. It would take a while to get used to after so many years of dimness, then living mainly indoors at the training camp. If her eyes hadn’t taken time to adjust, their retinas would have burned painfully.

The slope of the roof was gentle. Briella didn’t feel as though she were about to topple over the edge or slide down it. So with a briskness to her movements, she set about sweeping away the thick layer of dust that had collected.

As she worked, she thought back to the enforcer’s conversation and how Gast wouldn’t want another slave taken away. What had happened previously? And where was that slave now? Was she even alive?

She stooped and tugged at a grassy weed.

Curiosity was gnawing at her, not least because the previous slave’s fate could also be her fate, the destiny that awaited her. Maybe he forgot to medicate her.

She shuddered and tried to move her thoughts on. This wasn’t the direction she wanted them headed. Gast had so far proven himself to be both a professional and fair master.

And that kiss.

She pressed her lips together hoping to find a lingering flavor of him on her tongue. There was, just a little. Slightly spiced, musky.

He’d said he’d liked kissing her. That she was sweet. Well, she’d certainly enjoyed the new experience; it had been unexpected but quite pleasant.

Had he kissed his other slave? Was that something that was peculiar to Gast?

Briella didn’t have any of the answers to her questions, but that didn’t dampen her good mood. Her first day in her new home was proving to be not nearly as hideous as she’d feared it could be.

Before long she found herself humming a little tune as she swept. In the distance she spotted a bird, huge and with fingerlike feathers on the tip of each wing.

She paused and admired it. Birds were common in the mountains of Roun, but for her it was a great treat to see a live one. Pictures were all she’d had on her home planet, and a few stuffed ones in the Natural History Museum her cousin Bettina had worked in.

She’d liked the museum. It had been a respite from the smog as the Zoid government had invested some of their sparse funds to run air filters, an effort to save the many artefacts and rare specimens the museum housed. It had been futile though. What had they been saving them for? Zoid would be gone within the century. Nothing could save it. Like a cancerous tumor, the pollution was eating away at its core. Implosion was dead certain.

Pausing to wipe the back of her forearm over her brow, Briella wondered where Bettina was now. She had been due to join the next intake into the Roun training camp. She hoped she achieved that and that her journey across the galaxy was going well. Traveling at the speed of light didn’t suit everyone.

The bird cawed, catching Briella’s attention. She smiled and looked up, adoring it silhouette pasted against the lilac sky as it circled above her. The sound was beautiful and surreal and echoed around the mountains and into the valley she now called home.

But the sky was too bright for Briella’s sensitive eyes and she was forced to look down and resume her task. As she brushed a collection of gathered dust to the edge of the house on the right, she noticed a patch of soil. It was dark and rich, turned over as if waiting for something to be planted. What, she didn’t know. Roun produced its food in laboratories, and only trees and grass grew in the landscape.

But that patch of soil, oh, it would be perfect for her sunflowers. They would have a chance there. If she staked them they’d grow high and strong, produce more seeds, then she could plant more sunflowers, start an evolution of plant life on Roun.

Her excitement was dampened by the fact she knew she should never have taken the seeds. She’d stolen them when no one was looking. A devil on her shoulder had told her she wanted pretty things and an angel on the other had said she was the only hope the flowers had, that they’d never propagate if they remained on Zoid.

And so she’d filled her pocket and acted shocked when Bettina had reported the theft. Claiming that whoever had taken them had no respect for their sick planet. All along she’d held her secret close and kept the seeds concealed.

But now…

Finishing her task, Briella went back down the stairs. She was hot and thirsty but before she poured herself water, she checked on her master.

He was seated where she’d left him. His swollen hand appeared to be in the first stage of healing, the salve shiny on the surface of his skin. He’d rested his head back and closed his eyes.

“Sir. Can I get you another drink?” she asked quietly.

He didn’t answer so she guessed he was asleep.

Being careful not to make a noise, Briella went into the eating room and quenched her thirst. The water was delicious and cool and to have it clear enough to see through and free from grit was something she was sure she’d never take for granted.

Wondering what to do next, she glanced at the white cross in the corner of the room. That was where she was supposed to wait for further instruction if she’d completed her tasks.

She stepped up to it and stared at the wall. How long would her master sleep? She thought of her seeds in the heels of her boots. Were they okay? Had they been damaged by the journey by her weight on them?

Making a sudden decision, Briella headed into the sleeping room. Her boots were on the floor near the large wooden cross Gast had strapped her to the night before.

Carefully, she wiggled the heel of the left boot, forcing it to become a little loose. When a small gap was made, she upended it and shook. The first small black and white striped seed fell into her hand. It appeared perfect. She shook some more and released several. A smile spread on her face.

Now all she had to do was plant them. She could do it while her master slept. No one would know it was her. She’d plead ignorance. What could they prove? The birds above could have delivered the seeds for all anyone knew.

“What have you got there?”

She started and clenched the seeds in her hand as her master’s voice boomed around the sleeping room.

“Nothing… Sir.”

“Don’t lie to me, slave.”

“Sorry, Sir.” Her heart rate sped up. A strange tightening in her throat made it hard to breathe.

How could she have not heard him approaching?

He stepped up to her, his large shadow engulfing the area where she sat on the floor.

Squatting in front of her, he rested his arms on his thighs. “Show me.”

She gulped. The skin on her arse tingled. She’d really be in for it now. She’d been so stupid.

“Now!” he commanded.

She jumped and dropped several of the seeds. The sharpness of his voice, the volume of it, pierced her brain.

The seeds scattered on the stone floor between them, a small sprinkle of evidence.

Gast frowned and pinched one up, held it between their faces.

“I’ll ask again. What have you got here?”

“Seeds, Sir. From Zoid.” There was a shake in her voice.

He narrowed his eyes and shifted his attention from the seed to her. “Why?”

“They’ll grow into beautiful flowers, Sir. The flowers on Zoid are all dead; this is the last chance to save one species.”

He was silent.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“You shouldn’t have them. They could be diseased.”

“They’re not. I promise, Sir. They’re from the Natural History Museum.”

“What?”

“Yes, they’re perfect specimens. I promise.”

“And how did you get them from the museum?”

She began to gather the precious seeds she’d spilled.

“Tell me.” He captured her jaw and forced her to look at him.

“I… I stole them.”

He swallowed, his big Adam’s apple bobbing low. A frown slashed across his brow. “You stole them?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry, I know it’s wrong but—”

“But. You dare to say but. Surely you know stealing is wrong, but from your planet’s Natural History Museum. That’s… sacrilege.” He stood, dropping the seed at her feet.

Briella reached for it and clutched her precious stolen cargo to her bare chest.

He turned and stepped away, ran his good hand over his long hair.

She studied the shape of his back again, the thick lateral muscles that tapered to a neat waist. He was going to spank her, she knew it. And it was her fault. Not that she was sorry for stealing the seeds, she’d felt it part of her destiny, but for being caught doing so. She’d been so close. Another five minutes and she could have had them buried in the life-giving soil with a splash of water over them. They’d have thrived beneath the light of three suns, she was sure of it.

But now…

“Put the seeds down,” he said, staring out of the window.

“Yes, Sir.” She carefully set them in a small pile on top of the set of drawers by his bed. Her hand was shaking. “What would you like me to do now, Sir?”

“Be silent and stand still.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I said silence.” He faced her again. He was breathing rapidly. “I should flog you for this.”

She stared at her bare feet, unable to look at his furious face for another second. Yesterday’s lashings on her ass had been difficult to take, and that had just been to prove to enforcers that she would be punished for misdemeanors. But this… maybe he’d hand her over to the government for her crimes.

He stepped past her, disturbing the still air with his bulk, and tugged open the top drawer. He took something from it then stood before her.

She didn’t dare look up.

She didn’t need to. He opened his palm, revealing two metal clips. They had feathers on them, like the finger-shaped ones she’d seen on the bird above the dome.

“I can’t flog or spank you with an injured hand,” he said, “which is what I should do to punish you for this.”

She didn’t answer. Not knowing what reply he expected from her.

“So you will wear these for the rest of the day.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do you know what they are?”

“No, Sir. Sorry, Sir.” She eyed them nervously. They’d be clipped on her, she was sure. But where? Face, hair, her intimate parts?

“Cup your breasts,” he said.

“Yes, Sir.” She hurried to obey him, scooping up the underside of each breast as though offering them forward.

He licked his lips, held her eye contact for the briefest of moments, then stooped. He took her right nipple into his mouth and suckled.

Briella had to hold in a moan. If that was punishment, it felt amazing. She locked her knees and studied the top of his head, at the messy way his hair parted.

Delicious ripples of sensation were shooting from her breast to between her legs, making her clitoris tingle the way it had yesterday with the vibrating device. She flicked her thumb over the nipple he wasn’t tugging with his mouth. It was hard and tight, a bead of acute awareness.

She fluttered her eyes shut. Her master’s mouth on her breast was hot and delicious. It made her want to have her medication, but not to breathe, just because it would feel nice to have his cock in her as well as his mouth on her.

He switched to her left nipple and took it between his teeth.

She gasped.

He laved it, flicked it, then sucked it to a solid point.

Briella had the urge to run her hands into his long hair, fill her fingers with it, pull him closer. Tell him not to stop. But of course she couldn’t. That would make her punishment all the more severe.

Eventually his attention left her breasts and he stood, looming over her. He used his uninjured hand to open one of the clips. It had small sharp teeth running the length of it. “Be brave.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He attached the taut, mean clip to her right nipple.

Damn, she wanted to cry out. The pain was piercing on her delicate flesh.

She closed her eyes and bit on her bottom lip.

“Breathe through it,” he said, his mouth a whisper from hers. “Breathe…”

She did as instructed, fighting the desperate urge to reach for the clamp and tug it off.

“That’s it,” he said. “It will lessen soon. You’re doing very well.”

She wasn’t so sure. White-hot strings of pain were filling her breast, the discomfort slipping to the juncture of her thighs.

“Stealing is bad,” he said, his lips touching hers as he’d spoken. “You must learn your lesson.”

She was glad of his closeness, his words, the ghosting touch of his mouth. It was a distraction, and he was right, the pain was easing. Now it was a thudding sharpness, as if in time with her pulse.

“Good girl,” he said, pulling back.

She realized a second before he did it that the other nipple was in for the same treatment.

Once again as he applied the clamp she had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying out. She clenched her fists, felt a little dizzy, curled her toes on the floor.

“These nipple clamps will remind you, for the rest of the day, what a bad deed you did. These seeds were not yours to take.”

“I’m so sorry, Sir.” A sob burst up from her chest and she suddenly noticed her cheeks were wet with tears.

“Shh…” he soothed. “What kind of master would I be if I didn’t punish you for such a crime?”

“You’re a good master. I know that.” She opened her eyes, looked into his face.

He cupped her cheeks and stroked his thumbs beneath her eyes, catching her tears.

“Please, Sir, your hand.”

“It’s healing quickly with the balm,” he said, holding her face firm. “But that’s none of your concern.”

She didn’t agree. Her master’s wellbeing was very much her concern. But with her nipples on fire and a strange longing growing in her belly, she was in no position to argue.

“How does it feel now?” he asked, staring into her eyes.

She averted her gaze.

“Look at me.”

“Yes, Master.” She paused and met his gaze again. “It hurts.”

“In a bad way?”

“Yes, in a bad way.”

He tipped his head. “Think about it.”

She was. What did he want her to say? That she liked pain?

“Have the clamps made you hot and tingly all over?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“In your pussy?”

“A little, Sir.”

“Your clitoris, too?”

She nodded. How had he guessed that?

“Not all pain is bad,” he said. “Sometimes, as well as teaching a slave a lesson, it can give them erotic pleasure.”

“Erotic pleasure?’

“Yes. Erotic pleasure.”

“I don’t know that word… erotic.” She pressed her thighs together. She was wet there. She didn’t know why.

“Erotic means that a person wants to indulge in the pursuit of mating. Erotic pleasure is that all-consuming sensation you get at the height of the act.”

“Mating? But we’re aliens to each other, Master, we can’t mate.”

“Not necessarily to procreate at this point in time.” He slipped his good hand down the center of her chest, over her belly and to her pussy. “But to enjoy the physical feelings.” He slipped between her lower lips.

Mortification swept over her. He’d think she’d emptied her bladder. But she hadn’t, she was sure of it.

“Slave, you’re wet.”

“I’m sorry, Sir. I don’t know why…” She shook her head and closed her eyes. “It keeps happening.”

“You’re wet with erotic pleasure,” he said, rubbing her clitoris gently. “A wetness that eases the entry of a cock, whether it’s a man from Zoid or Roun, your body doesn’t care. It just wants cock.”

Her head was spinning. What was her master talking about? He was so wise. He understood her body better than she did. Oh, and the way he was rubbing her.

She pressed forward for more stimulation, wanting the pressure to build the way it had with the pad.

Suddenly he stepped away. “Now go and stand on your cross in the eating room. Do not move until it’s time to make my final meal of the day. And…” He lifted his fingers to her nose, smelled them. “If you touch your clitoris to gain erotic pleasure, I will know and I will tie your hands behind your back.”

Chapter Seven

Briella stared at the eating room wall. There was a small fleck of orange dust on it that she planned on wiping away as soon as she was permitted to move from the cross.

Her thoughts were a little fudged. The constant pain in her nipples was now a dull thud. She was still wet between her legs, though much to her relief nothing had actually trickled or dampened her skirt. Her clitoris was almost buzzing, the recent sensation of her master rubbing it a lingering memory.

Oh, she’d liked that. If that feeling was called erotic pleasure, then she liked it very much. She’d liked erotic pleasure when she’d had the vibrating pad on. She’d liked erotic pleasure when he’d suckled her nipples.

Glancing over her shoulder, she double-checked that Gast wasn’t around. She presumed the salve had worked its magic on his hand and he was once more in his workshop.

She studied the nipple clips. The feathers were impossibly light, catching in the drift of air through the dome. Carefully she touched them, wanting to feel feathers for the first time but having no wish to dislodge or disrupt the clips.

They were gorgeous on her fingertips, so light, so delicate.

Another quick check behind herself, then she slid her touch lower, drifted it beneath her short skirt. Skimming her fingertips over her clitoris, she held her breath. It felt so good to touch that part of herself. Why had she never done so before?

“What the hell?”

She snatched her hand away. Her heart seemed to bunch in her throat.

“Slave, do you have no self-discipline?”

Gast was behind her. He grabbed her arms, yanking them so her shoulder blades jabbed together and her breasts jutted out.

She whimpered as the clips jostled.

He harnessed her wrists in his hand, and before she knew it, tight cord was being wrapped around them.

“I thought I could trust you,” he said hotly. “To do as you were told.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“Did they teach you nothing in training camp?”

“Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir.”

“So why the heck can’t you obey me?” He sounded so exasperated with her that Briella felt her eyes fill with tears again.

“You’ve confused me, Sir.”

“With what?” He spun her to face him. He looked as confused as she was feeling.

Her arms were well and truly secured behind her back.

“With your talk of erotic pleasure, and that pad on my clitoris and now this.” She looked down at the clips. “They hurt but they make me feel…”

He scowled. “I’m very sorry to confuse you, slave. But it’s not that complicated really.”

“It is for me. I’m lightyears from home. I’ve never been medicated before and certainly never had these sensations in my body that feel so good but also hurt.” She dragged in a breath and continued. “I’ve never even been able to see as far as the end of a room before because of the smog on Zoid. And now, today I have all these things, and fresh air, and birds, and a dome to live in, and a master to care for…” Her words trailed off. “I’m sorry. It’s overwhelming. But I will do better. I promise.” She’d spoken out of turn, she was sure of it. Now what would he do to her?

She didn’t want to imagine.

He stared at her, his dark eyes narrow and his lips pressed into a tight line.

She studied his broad chest, which had a small crop of freckles on it, shaped like a constellation she’d seen in books.

“I’m glad,” he said eventually, “that you’re having good feelings in your body as well as the bad, it’s how I intend for us to live. But I don’t need you to understand it all. Not for a while at least. I understand what’s going on and that’s all you need to know.”

“Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir.”

“Your body is mine,” he said, quietening his voice. “To do with as I please. And if I want to see you writhe in pain, then that’s up to me.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Equally if I want to see you writhe in pleasure, that’s also my choice.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? No, don’t answer that. I don’t need to know. All I demand is your obedience. Your pain and pleasure belong to me; remember that, in return for giving you the ability to breathe, you belong to me, today, tomorrow, and forever. I won’t let anyone take you away.”

“That’s what I want, Sir. Really it is. I won’t let you down again.”

He didn’t reply, simply pressed on her shoulders, turning Briella to face the wall again. “I don’t need to tell you not to touch your clitoris now, do I?” He kind of chuckled. “But damn, you look sweet all tied up like that.”

His footsteps retreated.

Briella flexed and unflexed her fingers. It was clear she could get away with nothing while Gast was around. He had eyes in the back of his head. He was keeping a strict and close eye on her.

She had no choice but to obey his every word.

* * *

It felt like hours had passed as she stood staring at the wall.

Gast was working again, the sounds of his tools rattling around the dome. She was pleased that his body clearly reacted well to the poppy salve. His hand must be nearly back to normal after its altercation with the hammer.

As she waited for him to untie her and instruct her next task, her stomach grew empty. It was a different sensation to concentrate on, other than the tightness around her nipples.

Just as her breath was beginning to scratch her throat, warning her of the need for medication within a few hours, she heard Gast come into the room. He brought with him the scent of the soap she’d used in the shower fall and guessed he’d cleaned up before coming for his meal.

“So you had no choice but to behave,” he said.

“Yes, Sir. I mean no, Sir.”

He undid the binds at her wrists.

As soon as her arms were free, she scratched an itch on the end of her nose, hoping he wouldn’t berate her for it.

He didn’t.

“Make my food, please,” he said.

“Yes, Sir. May I use the sanitation room first?”

“Be quick.” He paused. “And if you touch those clamps or anything else, I’ll know.” He scanned his gaze down her body.

“I understand.”

Briella scooted off, glad of the chance to stretch her legs and relieve her bladder. She didn’t give in to temptation and left the clamps and her clitoris well alone.

When she returned to the eating room, Gast was sitting at the table, his hands linked in front of him.

He studied her for a moment then nodded at the refrigerator. “Your master is hungry.”

“Of course.” She rushed to it, the clips tugging on her nipples as she went.

Pulling out a slab of nourishment, she set about heating it and fetching cutlery and a plate.

Within minutes she placed his food before him. Again she added a cup of water and sugar.

“On your cross.” He used his fork to gesture to the corner of the room.

Briella gazed longingly at the food, but only for a second, because then she remembered her place and rushed to stand on her cross. The scent of the meaty product filtered up her nose; it contained salt and spice, and a hint of grassy herb.

Gast ate industriously, the sound of his munching and the scrape of his fork and knife not allowing for savoring. He was clearly someone who ate to sustain life, not for the pleasure of eating. But then again, he was probably bored of the lack of variety in his diet. For her though, Roun food was new. She was still enjoying the nourishment she gained from it, regardless of the lack of variety in flavors. But perhaps if they could grow sunflowers, the seeds would be a new flavor for her master to try.

She sighed. That wouldn’t happen now. He’d likely destroyed the seeds.

“Eat now, slave,” Gast said. “And hurry. I will await you in the sleeping area for your final medication of the day.”

“Yes, Sir.”

She waited until he’d left the room, then sat at his chair and tucked into the decent-sized slab of protein he’d left her. Heat from his buttocks had warmed the seat and she enjoyed it on her recuperating behind.

She didn’t gobble the food the way she had the evening before. She took her time. But not too much time.

Her breaths were becoming shorter.

He was right, her medication was due.

She enjoyed the sugary, nectar-like taste of the water, then stood, pushed her hair over her shoulders, and went into the sleeping room.

How would he deliver the semen this time? She knew he’d take her ass at some point. Would it be today?

She hoped not, because if she was honest, it was the entry point she’d been dreading the most. That place seemed so small, so ill-designed for a big Roun cock.

“Come in,” he said, seeing her hovering at the door.

She stepped into the room and glanced at the dresser next to the bed. A flood of relief went through her. The seeds were still there. He hadn’t destroyed them. Maybe there was still hope.

“Come here.” Gast made a come-hither gesture with his finger.

She walked up to him, wondering how she’d become used to the clips on her nipples. The agony had gone and had left in its place a gentle hum of awareness that wasn’t unpleasant.

“Skirt. Off.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He had such a serious expression on his face. Was he tiring of medicating her already? Was it a burden on his body to have to provide so much semen for her?

She took off the skirt and cast it aside.

“Open your legs.” He tapped her right foot with his.

She widened her stance. Cool air washed over her hot pussy.

“You’ll wear this again. You’ll need it.” He held out the small black patch; an inch squared, it was humming gently in his fingers.

“As you wish.” She nodded.

The right side of his mouth twitched, as if about to turn into a smile. But it didn’t; his expression filled with concentration as he parted the lips of her pussy and attached the pad.

Her eyelids fluttered shut and she blew out a breath. Oh, yes. That had been what her clitoris had been longing for all afternoon.

“Good?” he asked.

“Yes.” She nodded. She did indeed have a wonderful master—a kind clever master who invented the most delicious of gadgets for his slave. “Yes, Sir.”

“Now get on the bed,” Gast said, the slide of his belt buckle undoing slipping into Briella’s ears. “Hands and knees.”

She did as he’d instructed, her knees a little shaky and her clitoris swelling. His bed was big and soft, and her palms sank into the covers.

“No, no farther.” He gripped her hips and kept her close to the edge of the bed. “I need to be able to reach you.”

“Yes, Sir.” She stilled, but it didn’t feel like her body was motionless. Her breasts in this new position with the clips hanging were once again smarting from her nipples to the very depths of them. And her clitoris, buzzing like that, made her twitch her hips—wanting more and to get away from the intense sensation.

“You’re still good and wet,” Gast said, pushing his cock head at her entrance.

She knew it was his cock, it was so damn dense and wide, smooth too.

“Yes, Sir. I couldn’t help it.”

“Of course not. I made it happen.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He spoke in riddles, but her dazed mind couldn’t be bothered to figure out the meaning.

He pushed in, stretching her flesh. It stung and she gasped, not from breathlessness but from the nip of pain that spread over her newly extended tissues.

“Damn, you’re as tight as before,” Gast muttered.

“Sorry, Sir.”

“Don’t apologize.” He slid his rough palms over her buttocks as he gained more entry. He claimed another inch and swept his touch up her back, pushing her hair to the left of her neck so it hung in a thick rope, almost touching the bed.

“The sun has kissed you today,” he said in a low murmuring tone. “The sun and I have both kissed you.”

“Yes, Sir.” How she’d love him to kiss her now, to face her as he medicated her, spread his lips over hers as his cock pushed deep. She’d like that. She was sure of it, even though she wasn’t completely clear on how she was so sure.

He bent over her, his pubic hair touching her ass and his hot chest against her back. “You’re going to have to be brave for this bit,” he said against her ear.

“Yes… Sir.” The pressure was building in her clitoris again. Like a vat of bubbling, boiling water, it wanted to burst free, spread that erotic feeling over her body again.

“Get ready,” Gast said, his hand at her right breast.

He removed the clip.

For a moment Briella didn’t know what he was talking about, then it hit her. A wild fire of pain slapped against her nipple. Blood was rushing to the area, heat and agony going with it.

She cried out, a long low wail that she accompanied with a shift up the bed. She had to get away from the pain. It was too much.

“No.” He gripped her shoulder with one hand and her hip with the other. “Get through it. Learn from it.”

“It… it’s too much to bear. I can’t…”

“You can. And remember this, if you steal, you get punished.”

“Oh, oh, I’m so sorry.”

“I know you are.” He tugged at the other clamp.

If Briella thought she’d had more than she could handle, now she really tipped over the edge.

Another brilliant, burning shot of pure torture attacked her other nipple. She yelped and clutched her breast, toppling on the bed.

But Gast held her firm with his cock deep inside her.

“That’s it, let it out,” he said. “Cry out again. No one can hear you.”

She gave into it. Tears poured down her cheeks as she hollered once more. With no consideration for the fact she sounded like a wild animal, she used the last dregs of her breath to shriek and yell.

“Now,” Gast said, reaching beneath her and cupping both of her breasts in his big hands. “Let the erotic pleasure take you.”

He straightened, pulling her with him, his chest pressed against her back.

His hands were soothing on her breasts, and as she nestled the crown of her head into the groove of his neck, the position of his dense cock inside her and the vibrating patch became her new overriding sensations.

“Good…” he said against her ear. “That’s it. Let it topple you over the edge. Tell me when it does.”

“Yes… yes…”

“Because if I medicate you as your pussy contracts around my cock, the semen is all the more potent, works better and for longer.” He was getting breathless too as he shunted in and out of her. “Your body draws it in, sucks it up.”

“Oh, Gast… I mean, Sir… I’m…” She gripped his forearms. Her body was not her own. He was holding her up, penetrating her. The sound of his breathing filled her mind.

“Is it here?” he asked.

“Yes, the erotic pleasure, oh, now…” She held her breath as her pussy released the pressure. Her clitoris pulsed against the pad. An exquisite bliss thundered around her body and streaks of lightning seared across her vision.

“Oh, slave, yes… that’s it.” Gast pumped his cock into her, going so deep, deeper than he had before. “Take it all. Take it all.”

She pulled in a breath. It went to the base of her lungs; her tubes were wide and free. “Oh, Sir, thank you.”

“Keep going,” he said. “There’s more.” He pulsed inside her again.

Briella threw her thanks to the stars above for having such a virile, fit master with such high-grade semen. She hoped nothing would ever change between them. She’d never felt so alive, so full of everything she’d ever wanted.

He released her left breast, cupped her jaw, and twisted her face to his. His mouth settled over hers. Another of his delicious kisses, complete with long strokes of his tongue.

Briella reached up and touched his hair very gently, absorbing the texture of it on her palm.

Her pussy was thumping around his cock. The vibrating patch continued to buzz.

She twitched, sensation overload, her fingers curling in his long strands and tugging.

He must have guessed her problem because he peeled the pad off, then wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her tight as he continued to kiss her.

She sagged against him, her body a mass of pleasure.

Her master had become her world.

Chapter Eight

Eventually he released her. He withdrew, then walked to the window and stared out at the setting suns.

“Sir,” she asked, enjoying the freshness of the air sinking to the base of her chest.

“What, slave?” He didn’t turn.

“Would you like me to move my cot into the eating room, as the enforcers suggested?”

He didn’t speak.

“I’m concerned,” she went on, “that if they come back, which I’m told they will from time to time, for spot checks, that we’ll both be punished if I’m spending the night in your sleeping area.”

“No.” He faced her, a frown creasing his brow.

She pressed her lips together. It wasn’t her place to question her master but she was worried he was making a mistake.

“Your breathing is my responsibility,” he said, tilting his chin. “How am I supposed to uphold that responsibility if you are not in the same room as me during the dead of the night?” He shook his head. “It’s a stupid rule and I will not go along with it.”

“Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir.”

“Now go and prepare yourself for sleep. It’s been a long day.” He gestured to the sanitation room.

“Yes, Sir.” Briella hurried to do as he’d instructed. Her breasts jiggled as she walked, her nipples smarting at the rush of air past them. Between her legs she was very damp, her inner thighs slicking over each other.

Her mind was spinning. He wanted her to sleep with him, in his room. There was no denying the very thought thrilled her. She’d be able to hear him too, smell him, be aware of his presence as she slipped into the most wonderful sleep with air free-flowing through her tubes.

She turned on the shower fall and stepped beneath it, allowing it to soak through her hair. Around her feet the water took on a faint orange hue as the day’s dust swirled away.

She stared at it, fascinated. Everything was vibrant, including her mind. She wanted to know why the water went in a circle before slipping down the plug hole. What was the name of the birds in the sky? Did other slaves have the same near-violent reaction when they were medicated? Did Nhah? Was she having the same erotic pleasure experience?

Much as Briella would have liked to spend hours in the shower, she knew that would anger her master. Water was a precious commodity even though it wasn’t as rare on Roun as it had been on Zoid.

After drying her body and combing her damp hair, she stepped naked from the sanitation room and into the sleeping area.

Her master was lying on the bed with his hands behind his head, exposing dark tufts of underarm hair. He was staring up at the domed ceiling as if deep in thought. Or at least that was what she hoped and not that he was searching for dust motes; she couldn’t guarantee she’d captured all of them.

Silently she crawled onto her cot that was only inches from the floor. The pillow was soft and clean and the blanket cool and silky. With a sigh she stretched out. An unusual but most welcome feeling of contentment washed over her and a smile settled on her face.

“You’re well, slave?”

“Yes, thank you, Sir. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You didn’t.”

“Good.” She pressed her hands together and slotted them beneath her cheek, turned to her side, and closed her eyes.

“I wish to ask you a question,” Gast said. “And I insist upon an honest answer.”

“Of course. I will always tell you the truth, Sir.” She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the relaxation that had washed over her.

“That pleases me. I wish only for the truth from you.”

He was silent and she wondered if she should prompt him for the question but decided against it.

“When your name came up in the register to come to Roun as a slave, did you have a choice?” he asked. “Did your parents allow you to make the decision or was it forced upon you?”

“No, it wasn’t forced upon me,” she said quickly, remembering the relief on their faces when she’d been picked. “Not at all. My parents are intelligent people and they love me dearly, but they knew Roun was my only hope for a healthy and long life.”

“Even though you’d be a slave, bound to do the bidding of another for the rest of your days?”

“It seems a small price to pay for the gift of your semen.”

“Would you not wish to take the synthetic semen? Live in a different way here on Roun? There has been talk in some circles of that happening for Zoid women.” He shifted on the bed and it creaked.

She wondered if he was looking at her now, but kept her eyes closed, lost in her own little world and enjoying the deep timbre of her master’s voice.

“No. This is the life I chose. The synthetic stuff, it doesn’t make me feel the same way you do… and…”

“And… go on.”

“I’d be scared, Sir. How would I fit in here? I have nothing except the clothes I stand in. Like all women from Zoid I have little in the way of skills; concentrating with low blood oxygen levels wasn’t easy. Only the most privileged children on Zoid are given smog-free air to breathe when studying. Those expected to go on to be scientists and have ideas to save Zoid.” She sighed again. “But it’s beyond saving.”

“That’s without doubt.” He paused. “Look at me, slave.”

She opened her eyes.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, fingers curled around the blanket, staring at her. “So,” he said, his thick eyebrows pulled low, “you want to be here? With me?”

“Yes, Sir, very much. It’s my dream come true.”

“It is?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yes. You’re a kind master, a handsome master with lots of strong semen. Your dome is beautiful, the views, the birds, the suns. I feel very fortunate.”

He nodded slowly. “And you enjoy your medication?”

“Yes, Sir. If it pleases you, that is?”

“Of course it pleases me, medicating you is pleasurable for me; if it wasn’t, my cock wouldn’t get hard for you.”

“Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“You have a lot to learn.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And I will teach you in many ways.”

“Like the clamps, Sir.”

“Yes, and the flogger and my hand.” He held up his palm, the one he’d injured. “Come here.”

She hesitated.

“Now.”

“Yes, Sir.” She quickly stood, clasping her hands before her.

“I wish to check the poppy balm has worked.” He flexed and unflexed his fingers as his attention dipped to her breasts. “If not I will apply more so I’m healed by morning. Tomorrow I have much to do.”

“Yes, Sir.” She curled her toes on the hard floor. How was he going to test the health of his hand?

“Lay yourself over my knee.” He straightened and drew his legs together.

Briella stayed rooted to the spot. Did he really want her draped over his lap? Her breasts against his thighs, her belly squashed against his leg?

He tipped his head. “If you’re a good slave, I will allow you to ask me one question. I can see that many are swirling in that pretty head of yours.”

“Yes, Sir.” One question? She stepped up to him, then gingerly, not wanting to hurt him, settled face down on his lap.

“I won’t break,” he muttered, with a tinge of impatience. He pressed between her shoulders, pinning her to the bed, and dragged her hips so that she was flush with his body.

Gasping at the sudden swift movement, she gripped the covers and pressed her cheek onto the sheet.

“Ah, such a sweet ass,” he said, skimming his hand over both buttocks.

She was still tender from the flogger but she could easily tolerate him touching her there now.

“You pinked up quickly when I flogged you for the enforcers.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“But now I’m going to pink you up for me. To see if my hand copes with spanking you, slave.”

“Yes, Sir. As you wish.”

“I do wish.” He stroked up to her hairline then down her back to her thighs, then behind her knees. He tickled and caressed, the hard calluses on his palms scratching her slightly.

She writhed, enjoying his touch and the adoration he seemed to put into each movement.

Suddenly it hit; one hard, resounding slap on her right buttock.

She cried out as the pain bloomed over her skin, then jerked, trying to get away from it. The sting followed.

“No, keep still.” He gathered her hair in his free hand and tugged.

She stilled as her scalp complained. “Oh, Sir…”

“I wish to see my handprint come alive.”

She bit on her bottom lip. Did all masters on Roun wish for this? She wasn’t sure. Maybe that should be her question.

He was rubbing her buttock again, exactly where he’d hit. “Here it comes. My handprint on you. Beautiful.”

“Does that mean your hand is well, Sir?”

“I believe it does.” He gripped her hair tighter. “Keep still. One more.”

She screwed up her eyes and tensed her butt cheeks.

“No, relax. Don’t do that.”

“Sorry, Sir.”

It took great effort to release the tension in her buttocks. But as soon as she did he struck her again.

She’d been aware of the air shifting around her opposite buttock a moment before a fire-like slap hit down. And when it did, the heat burned against her nerve endings. He’d put solid muscle behind the slap.

“Mmm…” Gast said, pulling her a little closer. His cock was hard against her and his body as warm as hers. “There we go. Good girl.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

He chuckled. “You are thanking me for a spank?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good, that means you will get more of them.” He chuckled again. “You obviously like it.”

She swallowed tightly. She wasn’t sure how many spankings she really wanted, or if she liked it. But his hand was better than the flogger.

But lying here, she was so open to him, somehow more vulnerable tipped over his lap like this, with her ass in the air for his enjoyment, than when she was on the cross.

What did she look like to him? A slim girl with moon-white buttocks squirming on his thick lap?

He appeared in no rush to release her and continued to caress her body, paying particular attention to her patches of smarting skin as though admiring his handiwork. He slipped his finger through the cleft of her buttocks, sliding to her anus and hovering there for a moment.

She held her breath and squeezed the sheets tighter.

“This will be soon,” he said, pressing very gently at the center of her pucker.

“Yes, Sir.”

“The enforcers will check that I have medicated you here.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And if it hasn’t happened, they will do it.”

“I don’t want that, Sir,” she said quickly. “Really I don’t.” The thought of the mean enforcer driving his way into her tender hole sent a shiver of fear up her spine. She knew he wouldn’t be considerate or gentle, he’d just take her fast and hard, get the job done.

“Shh…” He carefully pulled her upright and maneuvered her onto his lap.

“You said you wanted the truth from me, Sir.” She looked into his eyes.

“Yes, slave, always.”

“I’m afraid of it, Sir.”

“Of the enforcer?”

“Yes, I do not want him to do it. And also…”

“Go on.”

“I am afraid it will hurt no matter who medicates me there.” She glanced away.

“I understand your fear. But you needn’t be worried. I will make it good for you.” He stroked her hair back from her face and angled her jaw so she was looking at him again. “Ensuring my slaves aren’t harmed is my top priority.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Her heart swelled with gratitude, even as her ass stung as it pressed on his thighs. She knew he’d make it right and do it with consideration. It would hurt, she had no doubt about it, she’d heard many stories from the girls at the camp. But with Gast, she wouldn’t be so scared. “May I have my question now?”

“Yes, slave, go ahead.”

“I’m not your first slave, am I?”

He glanced away, pulling his attention from her face. His lips pressed together into a thin tight line.

“I’m sorry, Sir. I’ve overstepped the line.” She wanted to curl up, make herself invisible. A dart of pain had crossed his beautiful eyes and she hated that her words had put it there.

“You do not need to apologize. None of it is your fault.”

“No, but…”

He pressed his index finger over her lips to silence her. “Yes. I had another slave, once. Her name was Skylar.” He tipped his head, his long hair falling over his shoulder. “I know you have more questions, because it’s unusual for a master of Roun to have had more than one slave.”

She nodded, just a little. Questions were backing up in her mind.

“But all you really need to know is that she’s still alive. That her leaving was not of my doing.”

“Okay, Sir. I understand, Sir.” She itched to touch his hair again. Comfort him. Clearly Skylar leaving had hurt his heart.

His heart?

Had he loved her?

“She was well medicated with me, and told me she was happy here.” He stood, resting Briella onto her feet. “But that’s enough of the past. Now we have our future to think of.”

She could resist no more and took the ends of a thick strand of his hair between her fingers. “Yes, Sir. A future I’m looking forward to, with you.”

He watched for a moment, as she fanned the thick, dark strands between her thumb and index finger, then, “Sleep now, slave. In your bed.”

He gave her a final, swift hard slap on her right ass cheek.

She gasped and released his hair. The sting spread over her flesh as her buttock wobbled. “Yes, Sir.” It wasn’t unpleasant, the heat of his hand, and she allowed the warmth to settle in her belly, her nipples, and her clitoris as she curled up on her low bed once more.

Chapter Nine

“Open up, slave.”

Briella took a second to remember where she was, then her master’s hand at her jaw and the scent of his flesh brought her right back to the present.

He squeezed her cheeks slightly, forcing her mouth wide as she blinked to the daylight.

He was right in front of her, his erect cock a few inches from her mouth. He was working it in his fist, the flared, rouged head bobbing in time with his movements.

A giddy sense of excitement went through her.

What a way to start the day.

“Take me,” he said, his voice low and gritty with sleep. “Take me the way you did yesterday, into your mouth. Suck me, take my semen down your throat.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, simply slid his cock over her tongue as he wrapped his other hand around the nape of her neck, pulling her to meet him. He kept on going, so far, so deep, until he touched the back of her throat.

Hugging him with her tongue, she exerted a gentle suction.

She stared up at him, enjoying the blissful expression that washed over his face.

“Oh, slave, that’s so good.”

Her clitoris was tingling, as were her nipples.

The sheet was gone and she lay naked on the bed with him kneeling at her side. The air was cool but her skin hot and goose-bumped. She tugged her nipples, wanting the erotic feelings to grow, then slid to her clitoris and rubbed the hard little bundle of nerves, the way the pad did when it was in place.

Would he tell her off? For touching herself? He had done before. But she considered it worth the risk. Something inside of her, vibrant and demanding, searing through her blood, made the act worth the gamble.

Withdrawing, he sighed, then slid back in with a moan.

She kept on sucking him, not so much to tug his delicate cockhead, but enough so he’d feel her mouth wrapped around his shaft.

The feelings in her clitoris were multiplying. Her heart was thundering in her chest. Still she looked up at him, marveling at his beauty. The way his tight abdominal muscles looked from this angle. How his body hair was a little damp with sweat. The acute angles of his face as he concentrated on the task at hand.

He opened his eyes and stared down at her, his lids heavy and his lashes creating shadows on his cheeks. His attention was caught by her shifting shoulder and his gaze went to between her legs.

Still she held him in her mouth, massaging him with her tongue, reveling in the first salty drip of semen she could taste.

“Yes, yes…” he said. “Like that, give yourself over to the erotic pleasure as I spill my semen into you.”

Relief washed through her. He didn’t mind her touching her clitoris while he was medicating her. She hadn’t broken any of his rules; rules she was still learning.

His shaft thickened. The pressure grew in her pelvis.

A slick of dampness leaked from her pussy.

She sped up, rubbing her clitoris over and over. Her toes curled. Her cheeks bulged with the size of his cock in her mouth.

The pressure—the wonderful, boiling, satisfying pressure—was about to overspill.

“Now, swallow, slave, swallow.”

Gast’s cock pulsed in her mouth. She guzzled hungrily and allowed the burst of ecstasy to shoot from her clitoris and around her body. Groaning around his cock, she closed her eyes, lost to sensation, lost to everything except the wonder of having her master making her feel so alive.

“Yes, yes, yes…” he hissed, pumping in and out of her mouth. “Yes, that’s it!”

His jets of semen seemed never ending and she took it all, the thick fluid slipping down her throat in luxurious waves of medication. Tightening his fingers on the back of her neck, he eventually pulled out. He dropped down so he was face level with her.

“Master,” she gasped, lifting her fingers from her clit. Her pussy was thudding the way her pulse was in her ears.

“Slave.” His eyes were a little glazed, his mouth slack.

She smiled, joy washing through her.

Suddenly he was kissing her. His tongue was stroking hers and his breaths were hard on her cheek. His chin was sharp with bristles and felt so beautifully masculine scraping against hers.

Feeling bold, she reached for him, clung to his wide, hard shoulders, and enjoyed both the kiss and waking with air rushing into her lungs.

On and on he kissed her. Until she was giddy with it. Until she wondered if they’d actually do anything else all day.

Finally he broke away. Smoothing his hand over her hair, he studied her eyes. “Today,” he said. “I’d like you to plant your seeds.”

Had she heard him right? After the trouble she’d been in the day before, was he really going to allow her to go along with her illegal plan?

“Master?” she said, searching for signs that he was tricking her with his words, setting up a trap for her to fall into where more punishment would be needed.

“You heard me,” he said, the right side of his mouth twitching into a half smile. “Plant your seeds. What’s the point of having them here if they never come to life?”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.” She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice. To see those seeds grow, bloom, would be a dream come true and the first time she’d ever bear witness to a real flower and not one from a book or old-fashioned photograph.

Suddenly he stood and turned.

Briella drew her legs up, creasing the sheet, and admired his naked behind. Her master truly was incredible from all angles, and not just that, he was kind and generous, too.

* * *

After she’d ensured Gast had been fed, and then eaten his leftovers, Briella retrieved the seeds from the bedside table.

Wearing just her short skirt, she wandered into the heat of the suns. For a moment she paused at the edge of the outcrop of land her master had built his home on. The view was spectacular and she was sure she’d never tire of it. The sky today was a mixture of lilacs and pinks with a few streaks of dark citrus orange hovering over the mountain tips.

An unusual caw caw sound came from her left. Turning, she saw it was the bird she’d spotted the day before.

“Hello,” she said, stepping toward it.

In an instant it took to the air, its glossy feathers catching in the sunlight the way a slick of oil would. A shard of disappointment tugged at her. Briella would have loved to get closer, to maybe pet the creature. But it seemed birds were untrusting of women from Zoid and she’d have to make do with admiring it from afar.

Gast was in his work area at the front of the dome. With his hand well and truly repaired—as he’d proven the night before—he was sanding a long piece of wood.

He alone was a particularly pleasant view. His muscles danced beneath the surface of his tan skin as he crafted the timber smooth. He was hot too, the long strands of hair on his back stuck in tiny curves against his flesh.

Briella felt her heart speed up just from looking at him. A strange swelling sensation in her chest made her breathe deeply. She wasn’t sure what it was but it felt more than physical. It was a tug, a longing, a need for him to be close.

Turning away, seeds clasped in her hand, she was aware of a smile stretching her lips. She didn’t recall it arriving. It simply was.

The small soil patch she’d spied from the dome’s roof the day before was soft and a fraction damp. Using her hands, she scooped out a long shallow trench, then scattered the seeds evenly into it.

The bird cawed several times as she worked. Gast took to his hammer, the bang, bang, bang echoing off the side of the cliff.

Soon the seeds were covered with soil. All that was needed now was a sprinkle of water and hopefully the magic of germination would take place.

After filling the jug from the eating area, Briella carefully soaked the freshly turned soil. As she did so she imagined the seeds with little open mouths, waiting for their first drink. Much the way she had opened her mouth that morning for Gast’s cock to medicate her.

Feeling content, Briella set to work removing the clumps of pale yellow, coarse grass from her seedling area. She cleared away stones too. She wanted her new little garden to look neat so she could admire the flowers as they grew. It was hot work but she enjoyed spending time outdoors with the air in her lungs and the sun on her skin.

Eventually Gast stopped his banging.

“Slave,” Gast called. “I’m hungry.”

“Yes, Sir.” She rubbed her palms together to rid them of the crumbs of soil, then rushed to the dome. Quickly she washed her hands, dried them, then scooted into the eating area, holding the jug.

She stopped in the doorway.

Gast was standing by the table and chair. No, not chair, chairs.

He had his right hand resting on the back of the second chair.

She looked between it and him. Confusion fuddled her mind. Was he expecting a guest? Should she prepare extra food? Maybe an enforcer was joining them. She hoped not.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I… er… the chair, Sir?”

“Yes, the chair. Do you like it?”

“It’s very beautiful. You are a skilled carpenter.”

“That’s kind of you to say.” He pulled it out, the legs dragging slightly on the hard floor. “Would you like to try it?”

“Test it? Before your visitor?”

“What visitor?” He frowned. “No, it’s for you.”

“But… Sir?”

“Come. Sit.” He pointed at the flat seat. “Now.”

“Yes, Sir.” She hurried to do as bid. The wood was cool on her thighs and the back hard on her spine.

“There,” he said, standing at her side and brushing her hair over her shoulders. “That’s much better.”

“But… I don’t understand.”

“I wish you to eat with me. Sit and eat with me.”

“But the rules? The enforcers…?” She shook her head. She couldn’t be hearing him right.

“I don’t care about the enforcers.” He frowned and slapped his hand onto the surface of the table. It shook under the force of his thwack. “This is my dome, not theirs. You are my slave, not theirs. I will do what I wish when I wish.”

“Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir.” His vehement tone startled her. Her master was indeed nobody’s servant. He was his own man, his own Roun man. She was proud of him. Thankful for him.

She also hoped he’d never be punished for creating his own rules for them to live as master and slave.

“I’m very grateful, and humbled,” she said, keeping her voice as steady as she could. “That you wish to eat with me at your table.”

“We will sit together, eat together, work and sleep together. It’s the way the stars have mapped out our destiny. Why fight it? And why in the sun’s name would I allow enforcers, or the king, dictate how I live my life?” He banged his chest with his fist. “I am Gastion Ribald Newton of Reme and I rule my dome and the land around it.”

“Yes, Sir.” She reached up and touched his forearm. The tendons were straining beneath the skin. “That’s how it should be and I’m honored to be here, in your dome, with you.”

His expression softened.

Briella stood and looked up at him. “And now I’ll make your meal, master.”

“You’ll split it, seventy-thirty, on two plates.” He gestured down her body. “You’re small; you don’t need as much as me.”

“Sir, I need only your leftovers, please. I don’t need some of your meal on a plate.”

“No.” He shook his head. “That’s not how I wish you to eat. I wish you to know how much sustenance you will receive each day. Both from my body and from my eating area.”

“But, Sir… why?” The words of her tutors at the training camp rushed through her head. It had been drummed into them that they were to eat scraps only. That was all they needed and all they deserved. They should be eternally grateful for any of Roun’s unpolluted food that was passed their way.

“Why?” He frowned.

She swallowed and nodded. “Yes, Sir. Why?”

“Because you’re my responsibility. And I wish you to be in a good routine in all aspects of your life here. Being medicated three times daily, sleeping, eating, and carrying out your duties.”

“I understand, Sir.” She nodded. “And thank you. But if at any time the arrangement isn’t suiting you, please don’t think you have to consider my feelings to go back to the enforcer’s rules. I will accept your judgement without question.”

“I know.” His gaze dipped to her nipples.

She realized they were hard; standing so close to him and feeling his body heat made her body react.

“Now go and get my food.”

* * *

They ate facing each other. No words, just the act of refueling. Briella adored every moment of being so near to her master. And savoring the meal, though bland and a slightly grainy texture, was better than rushing it, spreading crumbs, anxious only to fill a hole in her belly.

She took longer to eat than Gast but he appeared content to watch her nibble the last mouthfuls as he sipped his sweet water.

“Do you like Roun food?” he asked as she brushed a crumb from her breast.

“Yes, thank you, Sir. It doesn’t taste smoky the way food on Zoid did. The atmosphere seemed to hold every flavor hostage.”

“I’m glad I don’t have to tolerate such pollution.”

“It’s a sorry state for a planet to have found itself in.”

“But a lesson to all others in this galaxy.”

“Yes, Sir. I believe you’re right.”

He smiled and stood. “Leave these plates for now. I wish you to show me where you planted the seeds.”

“Yes.” She jumped up. “I’m so excited and so grateful for your kindness in letting me plant them.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He stroked the back of his knuckles over first her right and then her left nipple.

A tremble went through her. It wasn’t medication time, not yet, but if her master wanted to put his cock inside her, give her erotic pleasure, she would not complain.

“Lead the way,” he said, gesturing to the door.

Briella set off at a skip. How wonderful her life had become. She was happy in her body, in her dome, and in her heart. Gast was the wonderful gift she’d been waiting for. How had she lived without him for all of these years? The truth was she hadn’t lived. She’d merely existed in a cloud of noxious fumes awaiting this glorious day.

Chapter Ten

With her belly full, clean air in her lungs, and a tug of longing between her legs, she stepped into the sunshine.

But suddenly she halted, and her throat tightened.

The big black bird was digging in her patch of soil.

“Shoo, shoo.” She rushed up to it, flapping her arms the way the creature flapped its wings.

It stared at her, its beak stuffed full of her precious seeds, then took to the air.

“Oh, no!” she wailed, looking at the destroyed trench of mud. “They’re all gone! He’s eaten them all.” She dropped to her knees and sifted through the grains of dirt. “He hasn’t left me any.”

Tears were welling, her vision blurring. “How could he, doesn’t he know how precious they are?”

“Precious to him, too. Likely the nicest thing he’s ever tasted.” Gast rested his hand on her back.

She continued to scrape at the ground.

“Slave, please, stop.”

“There must be one left.” Frantically, she sifted the dirt through her fingers, praying she’d find a seed. Tears were streaming down her face. Her nose was blocking and her breaths coming hard and fast.

“Hey, stop.”

Suddenly she was on her feet again, Gast gripping her shoulders.

“Slave, please control yourself.”

“I… can’t… help it.” She looked at the ground. “I was so… excited to grow my flowers.”

“But your crying is affecting your breathing and I will not tolerate that.” His hold on her tightened. “Forget the seeds. It wasn’t meant to be.”

She pressed her lips together and tried to bottle up the sobs. It had been meant to be, she was sure of it. Why else would they have just been there, in the museum for the taking? She hadn’t planned it. It had been an opportunistic crime, but one she felt justified in.

“That’s it, well done,” he said, drawing his face close to hers. “In and out, breathe normally. You shouldn’t be disrupting your lungs like this.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” As she’d spoken a flash of memory went through her mind. The other heel. She’d filled both with seeds. Yet she’d only planted one. She had that many seeds all over again, secreted in her other boot.

“Sir,” she said, a smile spreading on her face.

“What, slave?” He was looking at her with a concerned crease on his brow.

“I forgot. I have more. In the other heel.”

“You stole twice that amount?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yes, I did and I’m sorry.” She shook her head and grinned. She couldn’t help it. It was a great big smile that balled her cheeks. “No, I’m not sorry. I can plant them again.”

“You’re a bad girl.” He released her right shoulder and planted a hard, swift slap on her butt.

Even through the material of her skirt, the hit stung.

She yelped and stepped away.

He grinned at her. “And what are you going to do when the bird is hungry again?”

“I will stand here.” She pointed at the ground. “Right here and guard my seeds. If he comes back—”

“When he comes back.”

“I will chase him away. He’s scared of me, even though I’m a small Zoid woman, that bird is scared that I’ll hurt him.”

“Go,” he said. “Go and get them.”

She nodded, determination sweeping through her to protect her next and final batch of seeds. Quickly, she shook them from the heel of her boot and rushed back outside.

Gast wasn’t there. He’d returned to his workplace and was once again hammering.

After carefully checking for the bird—she wouldn’t make the mistake of letting him watch her plant the seeds this time—she set to her task. As she methodically set out the seeds she tried to imagine them big and strong and in full bloom, their petals the color of the stars and fluttering in the clear breeze. Maybe if she willed it to be, then it would happen.

When she’d finished, she stood and admired the neat line of soil.

Caw, caw.

“Oh, no!” She spun around. The bird was sitting on a branch that stuck from the side of the cliff. He was staring straight at her.

Briella jammed her hands on her hips and frowned. How would she ever complete her tasks for Gast if she had to stand here all day protecting the precious Zoid seeds?

“I told you he’d be back,” Gast said, approaching with a bunch of sticks wrapped in netting.

“You were right, Sir.” She sighed. “And I don’t know what to do.”

“I have a solution.” He stooped by the seeds and began pressing thick wooden pegs into the soft ground.

“What’s that?” She was puzzled.

He paused and looked up at her.

“Sorry, I mean what’s that, Sir?”

“It is netting, to protect your seeds.”

“Netting.” As she’d spoken he’d begun to spread the thick green mesh over the earth.

“Yes, the birds are not strong enough to tear this, or able to pull the pegs from the ground. The seeds will be quite safe.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. Birds are clever creatures, they can fly and learn our ways, but they have only beaks and claws. We can outwit them.”

“I hope you’re right.”

He finished securing the net over the seeds and stood. His shadow engulfed her. “Of course I’m right.”

Briella smiled. She had hope once more for her flowers. Thank goodness for Gast. On top of everything else her master was clever and skilled with his hands.

He stepped up to her and cupped her cheeks, then lowered his face.

She stared into his eyes. The irises burned dark with adoration. He made her feel like she was the only woman on Roun, and that she was all that mattered to him. It wasn’t true of course, but that was how she felt when he looked at her like that.

“You’re pleased?” he asked softly.

“Yes, Sir.”

He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip.

She stared at the sheen he’d left there. His lips had such a sensual curve to them, they were so soft and when he kissed her…

His mouth caught hers as he held her face tipped to his.

She opened up for him, allowed his tongue to prod the tip of hers. His flavor, his heat, it made her so happy. She adored this kissing thing that he seemed so fond of doing.

He pulled away, still staring at her intently.

She smiled but her breath caught on a cough. Her chest was a little tight.

“It’s just as well this job is complete. It seems it’s your medication time.” He tugged at the bow securing her skirt. It fell to the ground sending a small dusty cloud puffing upward.

“Yes, Sir.” She nodded and tried to pull air to the base of her lungs. It didn’t quite reach. It was as though a band was wrapped around the lower half of her chest.

“Inside.” He gestured to the dome. “Now.”

She was happy to obey. Apart from the fact she knew she needed semen, she also wanted to be close to Gast. His kisses made her clitoris tingle and her breasts heavy. A buildup to erotic pleasure, with his cock inside her, was very appealing.

She went into the sleeping area and he didn’t tell her otherwise as he stepped up to the bedside drawers.

He retrieved the pad. “Put this on,” he said, handing it to her.

“Yes, Sir.” It was already buzzing, and she spread her pussy lips and allowed it to clamp on, magnet-like.

She clenched her jaw and curled her toes. The vibrations were instantly intense.

Gast was removing his trousers, tugging them off his feet and allowing his erection to bob high and free. He could have been a god from one of the books she’d seen in the library, or the sculpture of the perfect Roun male that had been in a Zoid museum. His hair was lustrous and long, his body taut and wide, and his cock was more beautiful than she could have ever imagined on all of those long nights wondering what a Roun cock would be like.

“Turn around,” he said, stepping up to her.

She faced the bed and as she did so, he pressed her shoulders, tipping her forward so her ass was bared to him.

“Your breaths will soon be easy,” he said, slipping his fingers down the groove of her butt cheeks.

Once again he hovered over her anus, pressing very gently at the center.

Instinctively she tensed. Yes, she knew it would happen, that it would be soon. But was it to be now?

“Mmm, so sweet and inviting,” he murmured in the softest voice she’d ever heard him use. “So good for my cock.”

“Yes, Sir.” She screwed her eyes shut. At least if she had the vibrating pad on as he entered her there, in her most delicate place, she’d have something else to concentrate on.

But he didn’t enter her there. Instead he swept lower, through her once again damp pussy lips and prodded her entrance.

She was a little tender but that didn’t stop her enjoying the filling sensation he gave her.

“So wonderful and wet,” he said, his voice still low.

“I’m thankful that pleases you, Sir,” she said, the pressure in her clit building.

“Very much, it makes it so much easier to do this.”

His fingers left her and in their place, the head of his cock nudged her pussy.

She clenched around him, almost as if trying to suck him into her body.

“You have to relax.” He gripped her hips. “My cock is big and you are small.”

“Yes… Sir.” She did her best to relax, but wasn’t sure how well she managed.

Gast pushed in regardless, shunting through her inner muscles until he reached full depth.

The buzzing on her clit seemed to intensify with the denseness in her pussy.

She held her breath, enjoying the narrow line between pain and pleasure.

His fingers clutched her and he gave another thrust, as if not satisfied with the depth he’d reached. “Let the erotic pleasure take you,” he said, his breaths hot on her back as he bent over her and spoke into her ear. “Let it sweep you away, slave. I have hold of you.”

“Yes, Sir.” She didn’t think it would be long. The pad was merciless and insistent. Her clitoris was being subjected to nonstop massaging.

She let her forehead touch the bed.

Gast set up a rapid-paced in-out motion, his cock spearing her, retreating almost out, then ramming home once more.

Bright lights flashed over her eyelids. Her belly tightened. Her pussy contracted around her master.

He groaned, then gave her a swift hard slap on her right buttock.

She jerked but then basked in the heated glow that spread over her.

He hit her again, this time on her left buttock. She wondered if she should be ashamed that she enjoyed his slaps, but didn’t have time to think about it. Because as he rained three more hard spanks onto her, the erotic pleasure took over. She freefell through bliss. Her clitoris and pussy spasmed and every nerve in her body burst into flames. She adored it, yet it was so much, a whirlwind of sensations that controlled her body for a few sweeter than sweet seconds.

Behind her, Gast roared. The sound was primitive and raw as it echoed around the dome.

His semen jetted into her. He was so deep, deeper than ever before. Or so it seemed.

She dragged in a breath and it shot to the base of her lungs, filling her with what she needed.

“Ah, yes, slave, yes…” he moaned, once again pulling out then barging back in, more of his life-giving fluid flooding her.

Briella gripped the bedding and allowed her master to hold her up as he continued to empty into her.

He was so strong, so virile, his semen so potent and powerful. She’d never dreamed it would be this way, so incredible and fulfilling.

He stilled as a final pulse of fluid left his cock. He’d dragged her onto him, his fingers pincers on her hips.

She breathed fast and deep, enjoying the moment and the way the air from his lungs cooled the sweat-damp skin on her back.

“You take me very well,” Gast said breathlessly. “I’m very pleased with your progress so far.”

“Thank you, Master. I only want to please you.”

“You have, but you know there’s still more.” He withdrew but kept a hold of her. “Keep still. Just like that.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As he released Briella, her heart rate began to slow. He reached beneath her and peeled away the vibrating pad.

She sighed; it was a relief to have it removed after the erotic pleasure had taken her. The stimulus was too much.

He stepped away.

She was aware of the room darkening for a moment. A cloud over one of the suns.

Then he was back behind her, stroking her smarting buttocks and the room lightened again. “You’ve gone as red as the third sun,” he said. “It’s very pretty.”

“Yes, Sir.” His touch was hypnotic to her, stroking her flesh, spreading the heat from his slaps. Her pussy trembled.

“And you will look even prettier with this inside you.”

He tugged at her left buttock and cool air washed over her anus.

“What… Sir… is it?” she asked, once again gripping the sheets.

“It’s a device for stretching you, preparing you for my cock.” Something cool and slippery touched the very center of her hole.

She bit on her bottom lip and tried not to shift away from it. Crying out or wriggling would displease her master and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

“Good girl, keep still and take it. It’s not impossible for you to do this.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He began to ease the cold hard device into her. Her hole stretched, as if the diameter was increasing the deeper it got.

The sensation wasn’t painful as she’d feared, only different. New nerve endings were being stimulated, a virginal set of muscles stretched by an alien object.

On and on he pushed, slowly and determinedly.

“Oh, please, Sir,” she moaned as it reached the point she wasn’t sure she could accommodate any more. The nip of pain was making her toes curl. She shut her eyes and tensed her belly.

“It’s nearly there. You are doing so well. So pretty…”

Pretty? She wondered how she looked with her asshole being filled and her buttocks flame red. They hadn’t told her about this at the training camp. Many details had been missed. But then perhaps they were unique to her master. He was rather special, and he also didn’t play by anyone’s rules but his own.

“That’s it,” he said, rubbing the taut skin around her hole. “Last… tiny… bit.”

It didn’t feel tiny, it felt huge. A cry was beginning in her throat. It was too much.

Suddenly there was a popping sensation, as though whatever it was had gone into her entirely. The stretch in her anus disappeared and the tight ring of muscle clamped shut.

“That’s it.” He tipped forward and spoke at her ear. “It’s in. You managed wonderfully.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“And now you will keep it inside you for the afternoon, while you complete your tasks.”

“As you wish, Sir.” Really? Just keep it up there?

“And later, when it’s time for your final medication of the day, I will deliver it here.” He rubbed her hole.

There was something there, on the outside. To stop it from disappearing completely?

“If that would please you, Sir.”

“It’s about medicating you effectively,” he said. “And avoiding an enforcer thinking that he has the right to sink his cock into my slave.”

The way he’d spoken those last words left Briella in no doubt that was something that would anger her master very much. It seemed he was quite possessive over her already. Not that she minded. She only wanted to be medicated by him.

“Do you understand, slave?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir.”

He wrapped his arms around her chest and pulled her to standing, nestling her back against his chest. “How does it feel?”

She squirmed against him. The denseness in her back passage was all-consuming; it sent trembles down her legs and up her spine. But she couldn’t get away from it; the feeling followed her despite the twitching of her hips.

He chuckled and held her tighter. “You’ll manage perfectly.”

“Yes, Sir. I’ll try.”

“If you don’t at least try, you’ll be punished.” He nibbled her ear, sending a fresh trickle of awareness through her body.

“Yes, Sir.”

“But now…” he said. “We must continue with our day.” He paused. “Though looking at the sky I’d guess we’ll soon be confined to indoor tasks. A storm is coming.”

Briella stared out of the huge windows.

The lilac and pinks that were usually a pretty wash over the horizon had turned to bruised purple and blood red. A fat-bellied roll of black clouds obscured the suns and as she looked, a neon green fork of lightning streaked like a cobweb over the mountain tips.

“Yes, Sir. I can see a storm is on the way.”

“And you will stay inside. I do not wish you to be out in a Roun storm. They can be very dangerous and stir up many things from the basin of the valley.”

“Will the seeds be okay, Sir?”

“Yes. We will likely get rain, which will water them.”

“Oh, yes, good.”

“Indeed.” He released her.

Instantly she felt cold without him pressed against her back.

“You will work in the eating area. I would like the refrigerator, heater, and cupboards all cleaned out. The view of the storm will be spectacular from there but you mustn’t be fearful; in fact, try and enjoy it.”

“I won’t be scared and I will work hard for you, Sir.” And she would, as best she could, considering she had an arse full of a strange device that was preparing her for tonight’s medication.

Chapter Eleven

Briella set to work in the dimly lit eating area. Without the suns’ light the dome had been cast in shadows. As she wiped out the refrigerator and the delivery shoot the drones sent the weekly allowance of food down, the room lit several times; an eerie green that seemed to stay on her retinas for several seconds giving everything a strange hue.

Gast worked outside until large spots of rain began to hit the window. Then he stomped indoors and appeared to start fixing something in the sanitation room.

Briella paused for a moment, wondering at how the rain landed clear against the glass. On Zoid it was black and gritty and a constant stream drizzled down coating everyone and everything that was out in it. Here, though, it was like liquid diamonds and ran happily down the panes.

She hoped her seeds were getting a good soaking and enjoying their first drink of life-giving water.

She bent to wipe out the cupboard beneath the sink. The device in her arse shifted and she caught her breath. It was hard to concentrate when every twist and turn, bend and stretch, created a cacophony of new sensations deep inside of her.

Her clitoris was tingling too, as though somehow there was a hot wire from her anus to that bundle of nerves.

After carefully wiping the cupboard and setting the cleaning products back in their slots, she stood. Her pussy clenched, which again shifted the device. After drying her hands she felt between her legs.

Gast was still banging in the shower fall area so she gripped the counter and examined her pussy. She seemed to be permanently damp down there, not something she was used to. It amazed her how her body was always ready for her master to medicate her and ease his way in.

Delving farther back, she came into contact with something hard and protruding. The end of the device. It was smooth and round and stuck rudely from her body.

She shivered and widened her legs, gave it a small nudge.

“Ahh…” she gasped. It wasn’t painful, just so extraordinary, and she wondered what the size of it inside her was.

Gast ceased his banging.

Quickly she stopped examining herself and rushed to the table to collect the plates from their meal.

As she stacked them, her pussy once again trembled. Her buttocks clenched and the device seemed to shift, pressing forward. A dart of longing shot to her clit and she moaned and shut her eyes.

It felt good, and she wanted more. Clutching the plates to her chest, she slipped her fingers to her clitoris and began to rub. Instantly, delicious sensations bloomed. She worked harder, faster. Any moment now it would consume her, the erotic pleasure. She knew she shouldn’t be touching herself this way, instinct told her that Gast wouldn’t be happy. But he’d never know and she needed it to get through the rest of the afternoon. Frustration and want swarmed within her. Soon satisfaction would be hers…

For a moment she was swirling, dancing in her mind. Bliss swamped her as her pussy pulsated. Then she became aware of her body unbalancing. She opened her eyes and saw that she was off kilter, toppling over.

She dropped the plates and gripped the table.

The violent sounds of china smashing on the hard floor screamed around the eating area.

Gast was there in an instant, filling the dark doorway with his big frame.

“I’m so sorry, Sir,” she gasped, her clitoris still throbbing through the pleasure. “I… I…”

“You were clumsy.”

Through the shadows she could see he was scowling.

“Stand still.”

“Yes, Sir.” She glanced downward. All around her bare feet, shards of sharp white chips were scattered.

Suddenly she was scooped into the air. The device shifted again and she held in a whimper as Gast locked her against his chest.

But no sooner had she registered the pleasantness of being pressed against his body, did she find herself plonked unceremoniously on her cross at the opposite side of the room.

“You will stay there until I instruct you otherwise.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He tipped his head closer, breathed deep, then his eyes widened. “What the…?”

She looked away, unable to hold his gaze.

He gripped her wrist and pulled her hand to his face, set her fingers beneath his nose. “You weren’t just clumsy,” he said, in a low, gritty voice, “you were disobedient.”

“No, Sir. I wasn’t, Sir—”

“I would advise you not to lie to me. That will only serve to harness a more severe punishment.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for touching yourself or sorry for breaking the plates?”

“Both, Sir. I shouldn’t have done either. I know that.”

“But still you did.”

He was angry. She knew he was. There were only four plates and she had broken two of them. Not only that, she’d touched herself, when she knew that displeased him unless he’d given her permission. She was so ashamed. Hated herself for being so blundering and for being so distracted by the device she’d been unable to resist working herself to erotic pleasure.

“Face the wall.”

She did as he’d instructed and was aware of him stepping away.

The cupboard door opened and banged shut. The sound of sweeping mingled with the patter of the rain on the window.

Another streak of emerald lightning filled the room and lit up the wall she was staring at.

Briella closed her eyes to keep in the tears. She was a wretched slave. Her master was having to clean up after her. It was the wrong way around. He was cleaning up after her because she’d been so consumed with the need to rub her clitoris.

Would he ever forgive her?

The clink, clink of the china landing in the waste bin told her his task was finally finished.

Apologies were sitting on her tongue. She wanted to express her sorrow but feared she’d anger him further so kept silent.

He was behind her again, his heat and scent wrapping around her.

“I’m busy fixing something right now,” he said quietly. “But when I have finished you will be punished.”

“Yes, of course, Sir.”

“And get used to that device. Because you will be punished with it in place.”

“I understand.” She swallowed a sob.

He stepped away and his footsteps faded.

* * *

Briella stood staring at the wall, stuffed full in her rear and her clitoris tingling, for what felt like hours.

The storm raged on though the rain soon eased. Now it was only flashing lights, and loud bellows of thunder shook the sky and the mountainside. She would have enjoyed watching it from the window but didn’t dare turn her head.

Her master would know.

He knew everything.

Eventually he came back into the eating area.

The dome was dark, partly from the encroaching night and partly due to the storm.

“Come over here, slave,” he said briskly.

Oh, he was still so very angry with her.

Her heart sagged.

Turning, her legs and back stiff from standing, she saw that he was sitting at his usual chair at the table. Except he’d pulled it several feet back.

Stepping up to him, she was once again aware of the device moving inside her, pressing against her internal walls.

He tapped his thighs with both hands. “Over my knee so I can punish you.”

“Yes, Sir.” She could hardly keep the quake from her voice. “Of course, Sir.”

Was he going to spank her? With the device in? It seemed he was.

Gingerly, she rested her belly on his knees and balanced herself at a right angle.

“No, not like that.”

Her world turned upside down and she flailed her arms. “Ohh…”

“Keep quiet,” he said, parting his legs so she was trapped between them with her ass offered up.

He set his hand on her back, folding her tight, keeping her sealed over his left leg.

“You must learn to tolerate whatever device I wish to use on you, it’s all for your benefit,” he said, brushing her hair to the side so it all hung over her right ear and tickled the floor. “And I cannot allow you to simply laze around or stand on your cross for all the hours I wish you to wear clamps or accommodate plugs or vibrating pads. That’s simply not good enough and will get nothing achieved in the dome. Equally you must learn to resist the urge to touch yourself when you have my devices on or in your body. I expect self-control, is that too much to ask?”

“Yes, Sir. I mean no, Sir. I mean I understand, Sir.” She stared at the long shadows the table was creating.

“Do you?” He rubbed over her spine. Up and down, over and over. “Do you really?”

“Yes… Sir.”

He smoothed his hand over her buttocks, then tweaked the end of the device.

She jerked as it moved inside her, the sensation so strange.

Thwack. Thwack.

“Ouch!” He’d brought his hand down on her ass cheeks, hard, one slap on each side.

“Keep still.” He held her more firmly.

The pain of his palm whacking her flesh shot over her skin and through her pelvis. She clenched around the plug and rubbed her clitoris against his thigh.

Although she’d called out, she didn’t hate the residual burn the slaps had created.

Which was just as well, because holding her firm he began to slap her over and over, putting real energy and muscle into each spank.

The layers of sting built, blurring together. Her ass was on fire, her hole so tight around the plug. She writhed and bucked but didn’t move much. She couldn’t. He had her well and truly trapped and her ass was his to do as he pleased.

She closed her eyes, gasped and moaned with each spank. A delicious pressure was once again building in her clitoris. It was the erotic pleasure again, and rubbing against his hard thigh was taking it to a blistering point. But she couldn’t let it take over. He’d said she must have self-control.

Gast paused. He was breathing hard, his belly shifting as he dragged in air and huffed it out.

Briella was aware of tears running from her eyes, but not over her cheeks, as she was upside down. She was gripping his leg and one of the chairs. She couldn’t recall when she’d done that.

“Do you think you deserve this?” he said.

“Yes. I know I do, Sir.”

He twisted the device, then tilted it so it pressed on the thin barrier between her arse and her pussy.

“Ohh…” she moaned. Was it a crime that it felt so nice? That the filling in her ass was making her pussy wet and her clitoris crave that all-consuming relief? It was hard to keep it harnessed, not let the need take over.

“You’re nearly ready,” he said.

He started up the spanking again. If anything this time it was harder and faster.

She yelped at the first two but then saved her energy for rubbing her clitoris on him and coping with the blooming pain that felt so good. So shamefully, deliciously good. But she didn’t allow it to overspill; when it threatened to, she clenched her belly and kept it at bay.

After several minutes, and just when the erotic pleasure threatened to completely overtake her, he stopped.

Her ass was on fire. She could actually imagine licking flames burning up from her skin. It felt hotter than any sun.

“Stop.” He pressed his hand on her lower back, ceasing her movements. “It’s time to remove the device.”

“Yes… Sir.”

She was panting, her breaths hard to catch. She slumped over him, used to being inverted now.

He was twisting the device again. There was a coolness around her hole. Then he tugged very gently and the stretch in her anus was back. But this time it reduced quickly, the girth of the device diminishing.

She was glad the room wasn’t brightly lit. What must she look like? Scarlet ass cheeks, hole widened and ready for his cock.

“Good girl,” he murmured, slipping his fingers into her pussy. “You coped with that admirably and now you’re ready.”

Her clitoris was more than ready. She wanted to rock on him again. But she had no doubt in her mind that would get her into trouble.

He lifted her upright, standing at the same time, and drawing her to her feet.

Her head swam and her knees weakened.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, holding her close.

“Yes, Master,” she murmured. He’d sounded as though he was talking underwater. She’d stood too quickly.

“Shh, it’s okay. Deep breaths.” He stroked her hair, then tipped her chin.

She did as instructed.

“You’re okay,” he said gently. “Just dizzy from being upside down.” He looked into her eyes. “Plus it’s medication time.”

She nodded. Her body didn’t feel like her own. That’s because it wasn’t. She belonged to Gast. He was her master. Her everything. He gave her life and pleasure and a home.

“Like this.” He turned her to face the table, then tipped her over it.

Briella kept her eyes open and stared out of the window. The wild flashing lights of the storm gave her something to concentrate on as Gast rubbed her ass cheeks.

She knew he liked the way they glowed red, but wasn’t sure if he’d be able to appreciate that in this light.

“You’re ready to take your medication in your ass now,” he said, fingering her pliant hole.

“Yes, Sir.” She curled her fingers around the edge of the table. “Thank you, Sir.”

“I’ve done all I can to prepare you. But now it’s up to you how much it hurts.”

“I understand.”

“So just relax and let me in.” His voice was calm and soothing.

The tip of his cock pressed against her hole. It was cool, damp, slippery almost.

She shifted forward and her clitoris bashed up against the edge of the table. Shifting her hips a little, she rubbed it on the hard wood. Instantly she was back where she’d been before, with her bundle of erotic nerves ready to explode.

“Oh, Master,” she whimpered as he exerted a steady pressure.

Her band of muscles opened around him.

On and on he went.

She knew there was no stopping. No going back. This had to happen.

She humped against the table, not big movements, just enough to build up the pressure in her pelvis. “Please, I need to…”

“Yes, you can, when you need to, take the pleasure.” He groaned. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, slave, good girl.” He slid in deeper, then set upon a steady ride, filling her so absolutely, so utterly, that she didn’t know where he began and she stopped.

As his testicles touched up against her pussy lips and his body hair scraped on her sore ass, she allowed the erotic pleasure to spin her upward, sideways, every which way.

She cried out, ecstasy wrapping around her. Her pussy pulsed. Her asshole contracted around his cock and her clitoris thudded. Bliss spread over her body. She’d done it. She’d taken his cock in her ass and it was amazing.

Tears of happiness spilled from her as her master unloaded his semen inside her. He grunted, long and low, jerking slightly as his cock pulsated.

A huge rumble of thunder shook the room and the room lit up with a jade and gold flash.

She moaned, delirious with joy.

“Breathe now, slave,” he said, running his hand up her back and taking a fistful of her hair. “Breathe.”

She did, and was grateful he hadn’t thrust in and out of her the way he had in her pussy. It would have been too much and made the pain bad instead of good.

He was breathing fast too and she remembered that he’d said he liked medicating her. It stopped her feeling guilty that it was a chore for him. She’d worried once that it would be something to bear three times a day on Roun. In fact she and Nhah had been convinced that would be the case. But the way it was going here, with Gast, it was the ultimate pleasure three times a day.

Chapter Twelve

Gast pulled out but kept her tipped over the table. “Wait,” he said. “I must put some balm on your ass.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She was content to stay double, staring out at the storm-heavy sky.

Without another word he began to massage her buttocks. The balm was cool and smelled refreshing. Maybe how flowers would smell. She wasn’t sure. But it was soothing and took away the sting.

Not only that, it was wonderful to feel so cared for and adored. Her master left no patch of skin without attention. He was thorough and methodical, and paid special attention to her anus, spreading the cream around her tiny wrinkles of skin and just into her hole.

When he’d finished, he ordered her to stand straight.

“Yes, Sir. What would you like me to do?”

“I’m going to shower. I’m not hungry. If you are, you can eat.”

“No, Sir.” She didn’t want to have a meal if he wasn’t going to. Besides, she felt satisfied in many other ways. Ways she didn’t have the words to describe.

“Very well. In that case go to bed.”

She held in a sigh of relief. Bed. That was just what she needed. She was weak and boneless after the way he’d just spanked and then medicated her.

He strode from the room.

As the shower fall came on, Briella slipped into her cot. Sleep would soon wash over her.

Thunder rumbled overhead. She thought of home and her parents. Her mother would have loved the diamond clear rain tapping on the window. Her heartstrings tugged. She missed her parents. She’d never see them again; that was the deal between the two planets’ kings. They’d said long goodbyes, but that didn’t mean a part of her soul didn’t ache for them. If her mother had been a younger woman, and unmarried, then she could have been picked for Roun too. But then, of course, Briella wouldn’t exist.

The shower fall clicked off and after a few minutes Gast walked naked into the room.

He padded to his bed, flicked back the covers, and for a moment his silhouette came alive as a flare of lightning lit the room.

Her heart tugged in another direction, one of admiration and adoration. Her master was the finest man on Roun, of that she was sure. And his cock, thick and long even when not erect, was a thing of beauty—although she did pause to wonder how she’d ever managed to fit it into her body.

“Come here, slave.”

“Sir?”

“Do as I say.” He lay down.

“Yes, of course.” She stood, then, moving slowly on her tired legs, she walked to the bed.

“Lie with me.”

“Sir?”

“Stop questioning me or I’ll be forced to spank you again.”

“Sorry, Sir.” She slipped onto the bed.

He tugged at the cover until it came up to their waists. Then he pulled her close, wrapping his thick arms around her and tangling his legs with hers.

“I wish to hold you tonight,” he said, his lips moving against her hair as he tucked her head beneath his chin.

“I wish for what you wish.”

“You do?”

“Yes.” She curled her hand over his waist. “Very much so.”

She closed her eyes. And this time, surrounded by her master’s strength and listening to his heart beating, sleep stole her away.

* * *

When Briella awoke, her chest was tight and her eyes stung. Her master was asleep on his back, his hair spread on the pillow and his lips slightly parted.

She wiped at the fluid around her eyes. It was as if she’d been crying but she knew she hadn’t been. Her night had been full of dreams of contentment.

Clearing her throat, she sat. Her mouth was itchy and so was her neck. She scratched it and stared out at the once again clear sky. The storm had passed.

But in its place was a blazing heat. She was hot, the skin at her temples prickled.

“Slave?” Gast sat suddenly and studied her. “What’s the matter?”

“I… I don’t know, Sir. Perhaps I just need my medication.”

He touched her forehead. “You’re burning up.”

“Yes, it’s hot in here.”

He shook his head. “No, it isn’t.” He pressed his hand to her chest, above her left breast. “And your heart is clattering.”

She coughed again, a wheezy, sharp sound.

“I will medicate you quickly.” He rose up onto his knees, holding his cock.

She dragged in another breath. The medication couldn’t come soon enough. Then she’d take a cool shower and blink away the scratching in her eyes under the water.

He worked his cock just inches from her face, fast and methodical, his movements industrious and well-practiced.

After just a few minutes, a pearly drip appeared on the end. “Open.”

She did as instructed, angling her mouth ready for his semen.

He captured her jaw in his hand, and just before he erupted, he slid gently into her mouth.

He groaned, a deep guttural sound, as he flooded her tongue.

She swallowed gratefully, tugging him as she did so.

Again he groaned and sank a little deeper.

Another spurt of thick healing fluid.

She rested her hand on his hard torso. His muscles were like bricks beneath his skin.

Another draining shot of semen and then he withdrew, his attention fixed on her. “Better?”

“Yes, a little. I think.” She drew in a breath. It didn’t sink to the base of her lungs the way it usually did. Her tubes were still tight.

She attempted again, trying not to panic.

It was the same. Usually her medication worked with instant effect.

What was happening?

“Slave?”

“I don’t feel right, Master.” She worried on her bottom lip. “My breathing…”

“Shh, don’t panic. That is the worst thing you can do.” Again he felt her heart. “Just relax. I can fix this.”

“You can?”

“Yes.” He pressed her shoulders, urging her flat. “I want you to lie down, quietly, while I get help.”

“Help? What can help me?” She grabbed his hand. “Please, what’s happening? Am I going to die?”

“The storm. The dust it blows up from the basin, it’s been known for viruses in that dust to affect Zoid women. Roun men are immune, but it’s new for you.”

“I have a virus?” The thought alarmed her. She’d heard of these fatal diseases that took out whole civilizations. “I’m going to die.” She clasped her hand over her mouth. “Aren’t I?”

“No.” He cupped her cheeks and said firmly, “I won’t let that happen.”

“Sir…”

“This is not the end. We have more time together, slave. Do you hear me?”

“Yes.” But what if it was the end? A few precious days of light and breathing and clear raindrops. Of Gast…

She wanted more. She’d hoped for a life on the beautiful clean planet of Roun.

“I’ll get a healer here quickly.”

“A healer? What’s… that?”

“Shh, don’t speak. Just rest.”

He bent to her cot and dragged it to the doorway. “We cannot be seen to be sleeping together.” He disappeared from view.

Briella nodded, then stared up at the ceiling and concentrated on pushing the air in and out of her lungs. A healer? They’d had doctors on Zoid. Men who’d battled to save people’s poisoned lungs. Was that what Gast meant by a healer?

Her throat was scratchy, as though she’d swallowed a handful of sharp stones and they’d left their mark on the way down. Her eyes were gritty and she wanted to rub them but knew it wouldn’t help.

On and on she breathed, tugging the air as deep as it would go, then expelling it slowly. She hoped the dizziness she’d experienced on Zoid wouldn’t return. She knew what it meant… hypoxia.

It felt as though Gast had been absent from the dome for days. But in truth she knew it had only been an hour or so.

When he returned, he was not alone. Deep male voices came from outside the door.

She closed her eyes and prayed the healer would be skilled and have the right equipment to save her life. She didn’t want to die and would do whatever it took to stay alive. To stay with Gast, her wonderful master.

She’d hated the worry in his eyes when he’d last looked at her. She never wanted to cause him pain or angst.

The door opened just as she was blowing out a long low breath. It took concentration to do that but she knew she needed to in order to breathe in the next one.

At the end of the bed stood Gast and the healer. Gast had his hands on his hips and his face was set in a worried expression. The healer wore a black mask with the eyes and nose cut out. He was as big as her master, his shoulders broad and his abdominal muscles well defined. He was absent of body hair.

“Slave,” Gast said. “All will be well now. The healer will deliver you his special medication.”

“Special… medication?”

“Yes. It will help.” He paused, then said quietly, “I hope.”

Special medication? Was the healer super virile? Did he have optimum strength semen? Was it laced with anti-viral drugs?

She wanted to ask all of these questions but didn’t have the energy.

Gast turned to the healer. “We shouldn’t waste time. I fear her lips will turn cyanosed if we wait any longer.”

The healer nodded once, then dropped his trousers.

Even through her breathlessness, Briella gasped. She’d never seen anything like it. Hadn’t known such a thing existed.

The healer had two cocks, one above the other, each nearly as big as her master’s and standing tall and ready for delivery.

“But… Sir?”

“It’s okay.” Gast came to the side of the bed and carefully helped her sit. “It will work, you can take this.”

“Take it?” Did he mean what she thought he did?

“Yes, one in your pussy and one in your arse.”

She shook her head. She wanted to live, but…

“Remove that look of fear from your face.” Gast’s voice had become firmer. “This is essential for your survival.”

“But—?”

“And you can tolerate this. You know you can.” He cupped her breast, his thumb running over her nipple. “You’re a wonderful giving slave and receive medication with such enthusiasm and obvious pleasure.”

“I don’t know if…”

“You have no choice. And I prepared you for this.” He cupped her other breast and flicked that nipple until it hardened under his touch. “Now onto your hands and knees. We will medicate you well. This virus will soon be gone from your body.”

He didn’t wait for her to respond, simply maneuvered her onto her hands and knees with her ass facing the end of the bed.

His touch was everywhere, gliding over her body, tweaking her nipples, stroking her buttocks.

Briella enjoyed his caresses as she continued to concentrate on breathing.

Suddenly something hard was at her anus and her pussy. She flinched away from it.

“No, wait. I need a minute,” Gast said. “I’ll not have her hurt.”

The healer didn’t answer but Briella sensed him backing off.

“It’s okay, just relax, slave,” Gast said by her ear. “And I’ll make sure you’re ready to receive your medication.”

She nodded, feeling too sick to argue now.

The familiar cool fresh scent of yesterday wafted over her nostrils, then Gast was touching her pussy. He slipped into her, two, maybe three fingers.

Despite her state of distress she clenched around him. Her master inside her was always something to be enjoyed.

Steadily he pumped in and out. She was wet and hot, burning up. She wanted his cock, not the healer’s. But that wasn’t going to happen.

He moved to her anus, spreading the cool lube over her back hole. After a few minutes, and she’d relaxed into the sensation of being touched there again, he slipped into her.

She closed her eyes and allowed him deeper. He added another finger, working them in ‘v’ shapes so that she stretched wide.

“That’s it, nearly there,” he said. “Just a little more.”

Another finger. So much. She wasn’t as relaxed as the previous night. She tensed, went to cry out but didn’t have the breath.

Quickly, she sought out her clitoris and began to rub it. It altered her position slightly but she didn’t care and she didn’t think Gast would mind either. Plus she didn’t have the pad on today, and that was what had helped when Gast had taken her ass the night before.

“Let me.” Gast nudged her fingers away from her clitoris and began to circle it. He continued to pump in and out of her arsehole with the two fingers from his other hand.

She groaned and twisted her head from left to right. That was what she’d needed; her master’s fingers on her clitoris. It felt wonderful, so right, so perfect.

He withdrew but didn’t let up on her clitoris.

Then the pressure was back, at her pussy and anus.

Gast was at her side, his mouth against her ear. “I’ve got you. I’ll rub you. Think of my fingers, not him. It’s just me and you.”

She kind of nodded but as Gast had spoken, the healer had gained the first inch of entry to both her pussy and her ass. A double penetration that was dense and dark.

“Ohh…” she gasped, a sharp, stuttering sound.

“He’ll make this all go away,” Gast said. “Take it, take it all.”

Her internal tissues were stretching around the thick girth of two cocks. Her clitoris was throbbing, Gast’s touch firm and unrelenting.

“Get inside her,” Gast instructed. “She’s running out of breath.”

In one smooth, swift glide, the healer sank to full depth.

Briella caught a squeal in her throat as she shunted forward. It was so much, too much. He’d taken over her body so absolutely. Filling her, stuffing her full.

“Take the erotic pleasure,” Gast said, circling her clit. “Now.”

“Oh… but.” She wanted to tell him it was too much. So intense. But as she spoke, the pressure reached a point of no return.

As if sensing this, he pressed her clitoris harder, swirling and whirling it.

The healer pulled partially out, then sank back in.

This time it felt easier, she’d stretched for him. She arched her back and held herself still, welcoming him to full depth this time instead of resisting it.

“Now,” Gast said, nipping her shoulder then pressing his mouth to her ear. “Now, take it.”

She allowed the erotic pleasure to swamp her. Her pelvis spasmed around the healer’s thick cocks, and her clitoris pulsed against Gast’s fingers. Her skin tingled as if a rash were blistering over it.

“Yes,” Gast said, releasing her clit. “Good girl.”

She moaned in complaint and opened her eyes. Gast was in front of her, his cock erect and the tip an inch from her lips.

“Open up,” he said, cupping her jaw.

She grabbled for her clitoris and pressed it with her fingertips.

Gast sank deep, semen erupting from him as he did so.

“Thanks to the king and the stars,” the healer groaned, his voice deep and tense.

A slick heat filled her body, pumping into her quivering, contracting pussy and ass. He’d medicated her.

On and on he went, his cocks thrusting in and out of her.

Gast was also flooding her throat with his semen.

She was so full of it, of them.

Drawing in air through her nose, she was relieved that it penetrated deeper into her bronchus. The semen was working. Giving her breath.

A single tear squeezed from her eyes, part relief and part the overwhelming physical sensations she was experiencing. She felt so small and humble between these two huge Roun men who were working hard to ensure her survival. She would be eternally grateful to them and never forget how her master had rushed to get the help she’d needed.

The healer stopped moving, his cocks buried deep. He was still pulsing the final shots of medication into her core.

Gast pulled from her mouth then slipped off the bed, so his face was level with her. He cupped her cheeks. “Slave?”

“Yes…” She nodded. “I think it’s worked.” She gulped in air, her chest expanding.

“Thanks be to the suns,” he said, shaking his head.

“I’m okay,” she said again.

He swallowed and looked at the healer. “Are you finished?”

“Yes.”

“Then please withdraw from my slave and wait in the eating room. I’ll settle up with you when I’ve seen to her.”

A slow tugging in her ass and pussy let Briella know just how far the healer’s cocks had been inside her. It seemed to take so long for him to drag from her body.

Eventually he was out and she felt strangely empty.

“Lie down,” Gast said. “You need to rest.”

She did as instructed, happily. Although she could breathe freely, she felt boneless. The erotic pleasure had been intense.

He pulled up the covers and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Close your eyes. I will not be far away.”

Chapter Thirteen

Tucked up in Gast’s bed, surrounded by his scent, Briella slept contentedly, her mind filled with the colors on Roun, her master’s handsome face, and the thought of flowers in her life.

When she awoke, the room was in bright daylight and Gast was seated on the bed next to her.

“Master,” she said sleepily, trying to sit. The cover fell to her waist. “What time…?”

“No, please. Stay resting.” He pressed her shoulder.

“But… your food, my tasks.”

He shook his head. “None of that is of your concern today.”

“But I’m better.” She pulled in a deep breath to prove it. “Look.”

His attention dipped to her naked breasts and he swept his tongue over his bottom lip. “Which I’m very pleased about, slave. But viruses can be serious and I wish you to remain in bed today, resting.”

“But—”

“Would you dare to argue with me?” He leaned closer and hooked his index finger through the collar around her neck, tugged slightly. “Your master?”

“No, Sir. I’m sorry, Sir. I’m just concerned about you.”

“I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.” He tipped his chin.

“Are you saying you don’t need a slave?” A wave of panic went through her. She wasn’t really needed here in his dome. Would he think she was weak and un-useful?

“No.” He shook his head and urged her to lie down again. “What I’m saying is I chose to have a slave. I want you here. It’s not because I am unable to heat food or keep my dome clean.”

“So you do want me here working for you?” She let her weary body sink into the bed once more.

“Yes, working for me but also…”

She frowned, wondering what else he wanted to say.

He stroked up the side of her face and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “But also just you being here, with me, is good.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s lonely, living out here on my own.” He paused. “I want company, pretty Zoid female company… your company.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Me specifically? But you could have chosen any woman from that lineup. You still could exchange me, anytime you wish.”

“I do not wish.” His voice hardened. “And you were the only slave I wanted when I saw the new consignment of Zoid women. If I hadn’t gotten you I would have left alone.”

“Oh.” His admission shocked her. “But why?”

He frowned. “I don’t know, it was like a magnet drew me to you.” He tapped his chest. “Something in here told me I’d be able to medicate you well, look after you, bring both of us erotic pleasure.”

“And you’ve proven that, Sir. On all accounts.”

“I’ve only just begun.” His face softened. “You scared me earlier.”

“I’m sorry.” Briella paused. “But why?”

“Why?” He shook his head and looked disbelieving. “When you were sick. I was scared I’d lose you. That you’d die from the virus.”

Briella couldn’t deny that she’d also feared for her own life. Being unable to breathe properly was a scary sensation. “The healer was very quick to arrive and his semen has healed me.”

“Yes, he’s the best in this region of the planet.”

“Did you have to pay him lots? I’m sorry if you did.” She could hardly dare imagine how many Roun rubles her master had paid out.

“I would have paid him everything I had, down to my very last ruble. It’s my duty to you.”

Her eyes stung, not from the virus but from emotion. Did he really feel that way about her? That strongly? “Master,” she said, then sniffed, “I don’t want to cause you trouble or be expensive.”

“It’s not trouble and I have some money. You were sick, I nearly lost you.” He leaned forward and touched his nose to hers. “And I’ll not allow that to happen. I will not lose you.”

“I’m glad.” A swelling in her chest, nothing to do with her breathing and everything to do with the bond she had with her loving master, filled her with joy. Feeling bold, she pressed her lips to his, hoping he wouldn’t punish her for such audacity.

He didn’t; instead he kissed her back, sweeping his tongue into her mouth. His stubble-coated chin scratched against hers as he pressed over her, taking control of their kiss.

She held onto his shoulders, adoring the heat that poured from his skin and the strength of his muscles lurking beneath the surface. Being with him made her feel complete, adored, protected. How could she ever have worried about coming to Roun and being a slave? It was the most perfect thing that had ever happened in her life.

Eventually Gast pulled back. His eyes were heavy but they sparkled with intensity. “I want to do something for you.”

“Whatever you wish, Sir?”

“No, not what I wish.” He stroked down her cheek, over her collar, and cupped her right breast.

She trembled under his delicate touch. As much as his hands brought heated pain to her buttocks, they also gave delight when he caressed her. “I don’t understand, Sir.”

“Something that you wish. I’ve told you, slave, I desire you to be happy here in your new home.”

“I am, so very happy, you have to believe me.” She pressed her hand to his chest, over his heart. “You make me happier than I ever thought possible.”

He smiled, just a little. “What can I give you to show you how much I care?”

“Nothing.” She couldn’t think of anything else she needed to make her world complete.

He raised his eyebrows. “There must be something?”

“I would have asked you to allow me to plant my seeds, but you’ve done that already.” She paused. “But…” An idea was forming.

“But what?” He took her nipple between his thumb and index finger and rolled it gently.

A tremor attacked her belly and her pussy tightened. “There is one thing.”

“Go on.”

“My friend, Nhah, from the training camp. I would love to see her, spend some time with her. I worry about how she is. If her new master is kind, how she is coping with medication and punishment. She’s younger than me, and was forced to come here. Her parents gave her no choice.” Briella paused, remembering all the times Nhah had cried and she’d held her and offered soothing words. “Just a few moments if that’s possible.”

“It is possible.” Gast stared into her eyes. “You’re a kind soul, Briella, to care about your friend so deeply.”

It was the first time he’d ever said her name. For some reason that made her eyes fill up again and her vision blurred.

He chuckled. “I will make it happen, but for more than a few moments. I’ll send a message to her master and invite them for a meal.”

“A meal?”

“Yes. We have enough food and the view from the eating area is very pleasant.”

Briella dashed at a rogue tear that had over spilled. A meal, with Nhah and her master? It was more than she’d ever dared hope would happen in her new life.

“Do you know who her master is?” Gast asked.

Briella’s heart sank. “No, I have no idea.”

“Can you remember what he looked like?” He frowned.

“Yes, she was chosen right before me. He had long white hair, down to his waist and his skin was chalk-white. He was tall too, moved quickly to Nhah as though, like you said, there was a magnet drawing him to her.”

“Ahh, yes, I know who you mean. I was concerned he would pick you. His name is Walden Braun Gunner and I believe he resides in the Southern desert. I will track him down.”

“You can do that?”

“For you… anything.” He leaned forward and kissed her again, still fondling her breast.

Briella sighed and gripped his thick biceps. She allowed herself to get lost in her master’s kiss, in his tender attentions, and in that moment, she knew she’d fallen in love with the most admirable, brave, and sweet man in all of Roun.

* * *

Gast insisted, as he’d said he would, that Briella spend the rest of the day in his bed.

She didn’t mind; the view from the sleeping room looked out over his workshop and she enjoyed watching him move about wearing only his leather pants and the sun gleaming off his honeyed skin. She was in awe of his beauty and strength, and the way he held himself with such grace.

His bedcovers were smooth and cool on her skin and she found herself slipping in and out of sleep with her master in her dreams if she wasn’t looking at him. Contentment was a wonderful thing and her soul felt full of everything she needed.

Almost.

As the suns began to sink toward the mountainous horizon, Gast started to clear away his tools.

Briella took a sip of the water he’d left her and felt a familiar tightening in her chest. Soon she would need medicating again. But only by Gast; this was the usual degree of breathlessness, nothing like when the virus had crushed her lungs. There’d be no need for a healer again.

Settling back on the pillows, she watched Gast disappear from view. A few minutes later the shower fall came on.

She wondered if she should get up and make his meal while he was cleaning his body. It would only take a moment and she had the strength, she was sure of it.

Shifting to the edge of the bed, she stilled. No. He’d told her to rest, to not worry about performing her tasks. He’d be angry if she disobeyed him. He might even bend her over his knee and spank her again.

She clenched her buttocks as a tingle traveled over them. She hadn’t hated the spanking. It had been belittling to be tipped over Gast’s knee like that. She’d felt small, helpless. But at the same time she’d truly felt like his property, which she was happy to be. The pain hadn’t been the same as stubbing her toe or banging her head, it had been sensual. The heat from it had spread, like a flame of pleasure, to her pussy and clitoris and her breasts tingled at the thought of it happening like that again.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to earn herself another trip over his knee.

The shower fall clicked off. It was too late. He’d finished.

She swung her legs back onto the bed and tugged up the cover just as he walked into the room.

He was gloriously naked and his thick cock was erect and bobbing heavily. He walked to the desk and picked up the vibrating patch.

The tightening in her belly increased and her nipples tightened. It seemed he was as ready to medicate her as she was to be medicated.

“Are you well rested?” he asked, running his hand through his damp hair and clicking the patch to life.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good.”

He nodded at the end of the bed and gripped his cock. “It’s time for you to be medicated; offer me your pussy and I’ll apply the device.”

She made no move.

“Slave, on your hands and knees.” He frowned. “Now.”

She swallowed, knowing she’d have to hold her nerve to get what she wanted from him this time.

Not that she wasn’t grateful for everything he gave her… but this… it would feel so right.

“Are you unwell?” He released his cock and took a step closer to her.

“No, I’m quite well, Sir.”

“So do as I bid.” He set his jaw and a small tendon in his cheek flexed. “Do not get above your station because I’ve been kind.”

“No, it’s not that, I beg you. I appreciate your kindness, it’s just…”

“Just what.”

“I wish to…”

“What?” He huffed. “Say the words before I tip you over and spank your ass until your cheeks glow in the darkness of the night.”

“I wish to… can I show you, Sir, it would be easier.”

He frowned.

“Please, I think you’ll get erotic pleasure from it.”

His right eyebrow lifted slightly. Her words had surprised him.

“Master, I only want you to be happy, and I want to witness that happiness. For us to be as one.” She reached out and took the vibrating patch from his hand. “I don’t think we will need this.”

“I designed it, especially for mating, so that it’s good for you, too.”

“You make it good for me, Sir.” She took his hand. “Please sit on the bed with me.”

He hesitated for a moment, then he did as she’d asked, sitting with his back against the pillows and his cock rising high from his pubic hair, just tapping his belly.

Nerves spun in Briella’s stomach, but the heat in her pussy was building; she wanted him, his cock in her, and she wanted to be facing him as he buried deep. Nerves wouldn’t stop her from getting what she wanted—no, needed—from him.

“Slave, you should hurry up or I’ll medicate you fast and hard so the deed is done. There will be no erotic pleasure for you.”

“I know you will, and I’d be grateful for that, too, Sir, but let’s try this way.” Quickly she straddled him, her legs on either side of his thighs. She took a gentle hold of his cock and allowed the tip to kiss her clitoris.

He sucked in a breath and stared at her hand on his shaft.

“Can I sit on your cock, Sir?”

He paused, then, “Yes.” He spanned his hands around her waist. “Yes, slave, sit on me.” His voice was thick with tension, longing even.

She touched the head of his cock to her entrance and removed her hand from it, gripped his shoulders.

“Slave,” he murmured, easing her down. “Who told you to do it like this?”

“No one, Sir.”

“But someone must have and—”

“I just want to look at you, when you’re inside me.” She paused as he stretched her, that first inch. “You’re beautiful, Sir.”

“No.” He pressed his chest to hers, pulled her deeper onto him. “You’re beautiful.” He captured her mouth, a kiss that was full of heat and passion but wasn’t wild or uncontrolled. It was two souls connecting, no longer any distance between them.

She groaned, the sound rumbling up from her chest, and seated herself fully on him. He was so thick and solid and in this position filled her in a way that seemed to push right into the center of her.

She rocked forward and her clitoris came into contact with his coarse pubic hair and the hardness of his body beneath.

Another groan rolled up from her chest.

He caught it in his mouth, and mixed it with his moan.

There’d be no need for the vibrating patch, she was sure of it. The erotic pleasure would come by grinding her clitoris against her master.

“Slave,” he murmured, tearing his lips from hers. He hooked his fingers at the back of her collar, forcing her to look at the ceiling, then spread kisses down her extended neck.

“Oh, Master, it feels so good, does it for you?”

“Yes, damn it, yes, I’ve never…”

“Sir.”

“Like this… it’s incredible.” He bucked his hips, pushing deeper and connecting their bodies harder.

She gasped and slipped her hands into his hair, filling her fingers with it. The pressure in her clitoris was combining with a need in her pussy. It was as though white-hot electricity was blasting through her. The erotic pleasure was all she could think about, that and holding her master close.

She was breathless, but it wasn’t just because of her need for semen, it was also the power of the moment. The potent thrill that had been injected into her and made mating with her master all that existed in the universe.

“Ah, sun and moons,” he said, releasing the collar and circling her into his embrace, pressing his cheek to hers. “Yes, more.”

She increased her movements, gyrating her hips against him, taking what she needed from his body. The release of bliss was storming toward her.

Again their mouths met, their tongues tangled. This kiss was wild and intense. The erotic pleasure was there, she held her breath, gripped her master’s head, and fell into it.

He joined her, spurting semen into her body and tearing his mouth from hers to roar loud and abandoned.

The sound spun in her ears as her pussy thrummed around his cock. She was in ecstasy, her clitoris shooting pleasure around her body. All of her nerves tingled and twitched deliciously.

The strength of the erotic had her spine weakening. She collapsed onto him and he caught her, holding her close.

His breaths were fast, his chest rising and falling against hers.

She pulled in air laced with the scent of his skin, and enjoyed it traveling to the very base of her lungs.

“Slave…” he said on a gasp as he stroked her hair with one hand and cupped her buttocks with the other. “That was…”

She waited for him to finish.

“Like nothing… I’ve ever…” He tucked his finger beneath her chin and urged her to look at him. “You… your mouth, that kiss when we…”

“I enjoyed it… Sir.”

“So did I.” He kissed her again, softly. “I’ve never thought to do it like this, facing each other, kissing.” He paused, pulled in another deep breath.

Briella smiled and brushed his hair back from his face. His cheeks were a little flushed.

“And the erotic pleasure, you had that, facing me, without the patch?”

“Yes, it was wonderful. I liked it better than the patch.”

“You did?”

“Yes, you, your fingers, your cock, your body, it’s better than that. I want you, not the device.” She frowned. “Not that I’m not grateful for you designing it, Sir. It’s just…”

“Shh… I understand. It’s better as a Roun man and a Zoid woman with nothing between.”

“Yes, Sir. That’s what I mean. Just us, you and me. Master and slave as one being.”

“We don’t need anything else.” He paused and cupped her cheeks. “Or anyone else.” He kissed her again, slow and indulgent this time, each stroke of his tongue letting her know just how much he adored her.

Chapter Fourteen

Much as Gast had declared they didn’t need anyone except each other, Briella couldn’t deny that she was really looking forward to Nhah’s visit.

Her master had organized it swiftly and now, just two days after her virus, she was sweeping the eating room in preparation for their guests.

Since they’d faced each other during medication, it truly had become her favorite time of day. Gast had told her to sit on his cock three times since and she’d been glad to do it.

She set the broom aside and straightened the two chairs at the table. Her skirt swished against her ass cheeks and reminded her of the spanking she’d had the night before. It had been late and she’d remembered that her seeds hadn’t had water. So slipping out, jug in hand, she’d tended to her precious little stowaways.

When she’d returned to Gast’s bed, he’d woken and was annoyed that she hadn’t been there. Within seconds she’d found herself upturned over his lap. He’d delivered twenty swift smacks, making her writhe and wriggle for mercy.

Afterward he’d silently rubbed balm over her cheeks, fondling her pussy and anus as he’d done so. Not enough to give her erotic pleasure, but enough to send her into a dozy, sleepy state.

The next thing she’d known it had been morning.

“Have you completed your tasks?” Gast walked into the eating room. He was freshly showered; the scent of his soap swirled around him and his hair was damp at the ends.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good, because they’re here.”

“Oh, okay.” A flutter of excitement swirled in her stomach. Her arms ached to hug Nhah, see her smile, find out if she was coping as a slave.

Gast glanced at her cot, as though checking it was still in the eating room, which of course it was. It had been there, untouched, since the healer had visited.

“Get on your cross,” he said. “And remember,” he frowned, “absolute obedience at all times. Do not forget your place. Walden Braun Gunner isn’t someone I know well. He may have enforcer friends.”

“I won’t forget, Sir.” She hurried to her cross, tucking her hair behind her ears as she went. “And I’m so grateful for this, really I am.”

“I wish to see you happy.”

“And I you.”

He nodded curtly, then strode from the room.

Briella strained to hear what was going on. The eating room window was open and she could hear a vehicle approaching the dome. She didn’t dare move from her cross though. Getting a spanking as soon as their guests arrived wasn’t on her to-do list.

The bang of doors shutting filtered upward, and then so did deep male voices.

She crossed her fingers, sending a hope up to the stars that Nhah was with Walden and hadn’t been left at home for some reason.

A few minutes later footsteps sounded behind her.

It took all of her willpower not to turn. She stared at her feet, at the empty cross next to hers that Gast had chalked onto the floor.

To her relief Nhah’s small bare feet appeared on that cross, her toenails painted the same neon-green as the lightning of days before. Next to her stood huge dusty boots.

Briella risked a glance upward but kept her hands clasped and her shoulders hunched.

Walden was unclipping Nhah’s lead, removing the clasp from the silver loop on her collar. He had a look of concentration on his face as his fingers worked carefully, and his white hair hung like silk around his face.

Nhah was staring straight ahead. And in profile, Briella couldn’t read anything from her expression.

Briella turned away, casting her attention on the floor again. It wouldn’t do her well to be seen observing Nhah and her master without permission.

“We’ll leave the slaves here while I show you my dome,” Gast said, his voice seeming to boom around the room.

“I’d like that,” Walden said. “Slave, you may greet your friend when you are alone.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Nhah said.

As soon as the men had left, Briella flung herself at Nhah.

Nhah stumbled, laughed, and returned the excited hug. “Oh, I’ve missed you so much, Briella. Thought of you every day. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“And I you.” Briella kissed her friend’s cheek then held her at arm’s length. “You look so well.”

“I am, really.” She nodded and grinned. “And so do you.”

“The air here on Roun, it’s so pure, and up here in the mountains, so fresh and easy to breathe.”

“Yes, it’s wonderful. I’m still enjoying all of the colors. My master stopped at a natural gallery on the way here, one with trees and birds. He led me around so I could see new things; it was beautiful.”

“That sounds amazing… and very kind of him.”

“Oh, he is kind, Briella, so kind. And handsome and thoughtful and strong.”

A roll of relief went through Briella. She’d silently dreaded her friend reporting her master was an ogre, a Roun man who had no heart and liked to beat her until he drew blood. But it seemed that wasn’t the case.

“And his dome?” Briella asked.

“It’s not like this one. We live in the desert, it’s a tent-like structure, but large and cool and private and he keeps cambrels.”

“Cambrels?” Briella had once seen a picture of a cambrel in a book. Strange big creatures with three humps on their backs.

“Yes, they’re smelly and spit a lot, but they work hard and make him rubles by moving trade goods around.”

“But you don’t have to work with them.”

“Goodness, no.” Nhah squeezed Briella’s hands. “He says that would be too dangerous and he wouldn’t risk me getting hurt. My duties are in the tent, cleaning, cooking, caring for him.”

“And medication? You’re being given enough semen?”

Nhah drew in a deep breath. “Oh, yes, plenty.” She giggled. “More than enough.”

“You like it, don’t you? Being medicated.”

Nhah laughed louder. “Of course, don’t you?”

Briella matched her friend’s grin. “It’s become my favorite part of the day.”

Nhah dragged her into another hug. “And we were so worried about it, the nights we lay awake talking about Roun men’s cocks and how they would split us in half.”

“And how we’d cry and bleed and wonder if not breathing would be better than being medicated.”

“And it’s so incredible, do you get this feeling, down there?” Nhah pointed at her flimsy pale blue skirt. She wore no top.

“Yes, my master calls it the erotic pleasure. It makes me feel crazy, as if he’s the only thing on this planet that matters. And then when it takes over, I can’t remember my own name and I wriggle and gasp and electricity spreads over my body, making me feel so alive, so perfect.”

Nhah giggled and pressed her fingers to her lips. “I know, I get the same. It’s enough to make me laugh and cry all at the same time and my master, he says he loves it when I do it, when I hug his cock with my pussy or ass like that.”

A draft flitted through the eating area.

“They’re returning,” Briella said, quickly stepping onto her cross. “That’s Gast shutting the side entrance, the wind up here blows through the dome.”

Nhah nodded, once, then stood on her own cross, head bowed, hands clasped.

Within seconds the Roun men walked into the room.

“Slave, please prepare the meal now,” Gast said.

“Yes, Sir.” Briella hurried to obey. She’d already set two plates and the slabs of food out.

“You should assist her,” Walden said. “My slave.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As Briella set the food to warm, Nhah was at her side. “What shall I do to help, Briella?”

“You could pour their hot water, and put a spoon in the sugar.”

“Of course.”

The women busied about, ensuring everything was just so for their masters.

Briella got another look at Walden as she set down his meal. He wore a dark green top with a deep V-neck and the sleeves were shoved up. His hair was mane-like and hung around his back and shoulders and his lips were soft and sensual. She liked his sun-colored trousers, which were hacked off just below the knees, showing some of his legs before they disappeared into his boots.

She thought her master dressed nicer, though. Gast always wore black and it suited him, matched his wild hair and dark eyes. Plus when he showed some skin it was golden and hair-coated. She liked that. He was so utterly masculine, everything and more she’d dreamed of in a Roun man.

As the masters ate, Briella and Nhah stood once more on their crosses, their shoulders just touching. They had a need to connect, to be together every moment possible. Briella stared at a dust mote between the floor and the wall and hardly dared believe how happy she was.

“Slaves, come and eat your fill,” Gast said.

Briella turned.

Nhah did the same.

Both masters were still seated, though their conversation about the government’s new policy on food had ended.

“Come,” Gast said, frowning at Briella. “Now.” He pushed back his chair and tapped his lap.

“Yes, Sir.” She walked hurriedly to him, aware of her breasts jiggling and his attention straying to them.

“Sit,” he said, reaching for her wrist and tugging.

She found herself on his lap, her feet just off the floor and the remnants of his meal before her.

Did he mean for her to eat in front of their guests?

“Slave, you too,” Walden said, also scraping back his chair.

Nhah turned, glanced at her master and then at Briella. Confusion washed over her face.

“If I have to come and get you, I’ll turn you over my knee in front of our hosts and spank your ass,” Walden said sternly.

“Yes, Sir. I mean no, Sir.” Nhah rushed to her master.

As soon as she arrived at his side, she too was maneuvered onto his knee. She looked at the food hungrily.

“I permit my slave to eat in front of me,” Gast said. “I know some do not but I can’t see the harm.”

“I agree,” Walden said. “Zoid women need good meals the same as Roun men do.”

“Eat,” Gast said, his large hand settling over Briella’s thigh. “I know you’re hungry as you’ve been busy cleaning the dome in preparation for our guests.”

“Yes, Sir.” Briella stomach clenched. She was indeed ready for food. But also being so close to her master, her ass cheeks against his thighs, his chest touching her back, made her body react.

She picked up the protein Gast had left on his plate and began to nibble it.

Nhah did the same, and Briella noticed she shot a few curious glances at Gast, seeing him properly perhaps for the first time.

“I hear there’s been another birth in the city,” Walden said, stroking Nhah’s shoulder and watching her movements.

“Yes, I heard the same thing,” Gast said. “There have been several healthy newborns now.”

Births?

Newborns?

“What do you mean, Sir?” Briella asked, unable to contain herself.

“Excuse my slave,” Gast said. “She’s very inquisitive.”

“Which makes for an interesting female,” Walden said, giving Briella a polite smile.

She was glad he looked at her eyes and not her peaked nipples.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But… have boys been born out of the laboratory?”

Because Roun was now an all-male planet, the population had survived for the last few hundred years by artificial creation of embryos. The all-male children were cared for at a facility out of the city until they were men and able to contribute to society and fend for themselves.

“Yes,” Walden said. “A year ago there was a rumor that a Zoid woman had swollen her belly and then a baby had been born. The first for many centuries here.”

“That’s amazing.” Briella shot Gast a look, wondering if what she was hearing was real.

“It is,” Gast said. “To start with, the king said it was a fluke; the reports were the baby had died.”

“And did it?”

“No, it was healthy,” Walden said, “and what’s more, the child was female.”

“A female,” Nhah gasped. “Really? The first one to be born on your planet and not brought here?”

“Yes,” Walden said, “which made her highly valuable and of course of great interest to everyone. Which is why she was secreted away and I would imagine is being raised in a secure facility.”

“This is amazing, Sir,” Briella said. “No hint of this was given at the training camp. That Roun semen could also have this effect on Zoid slaves.”

“No.” Gast shook his head. “It’s new.”

“Or it was,” Walden said. “Since the first offspring there have been reports of over a dozen more births, male and female babies. Some have even been sighted and the king sent out leaflets confirming the situation and even included a picture of a new family.”

“How can that be? We’re an alien species. Our DNA is so different.” Briella shook her head in disbelief and wonder.

“Evolution has a habit of working through these problems,” Gast said, pouring water into his cup then adding sugar. He stirred it and passed it to Briella. “Extinction is not something nature strives for. Procreation and survival is key.”

“I’m truly stunned.” Briella took a sip of her sweet water. A bluster of thoughts were going through her mind. The all-male population of Roun had been completely unbalanced by the arrival of Zoid woman a few decades ago. Now these women were giving birth, creating a new hybrid species. Masters and slaves were forming families.

“And can the female babies breathe the Roun atmosphere?” Nhah asked.

“Apparently without issue.” Walden tugged Nhah a little closer and pressed his cheek to the side of her head in a tender gesture. “Both male and female children have the ability to breathe completely unaided.”

“So they’re well?”

“Yes, very, and apparently gestation is short, much more efficient than in the laboratory or on Zoid. Only a few rotations of the suns.”

Everyone fell silent, sensing that they were part of something huge that was happening not just on their planet, in their galaxy, but also in the universe.

Briella imagined the tiny babies with Zoid mothers and Roun fathers, smiling down at them. Marveling at what their mating had created. She set down her cup, her arms suddenly aching, longing for a baby of her own to hold. A boy perhaps, who looked just like her master and would grow to be strong and brave and a man of honor. Or maybe a girl, one of the first new women who could breathe the Roun atmosphere unaided.

Suddenly Gast straightened. He stared past Walden and out of the window. “Someone is coming.”

Chapter Fifteen

“Who is it?” Walden turned.

“I’m not sure.” Gast urged Briella to her feet. “Onto your cross.”

“Yes, Sir.” She set down her drink and hurried to obey.

“And you, slave,” Walden said, also standing.

Nhah stood next to Briella, head bowed. “Who do you think it is?” she whispered.

“I don’t know,” Briella said. “Enforcers maybe, we’re likely due a visit.”

“We’ve only seen them once. The day after I arrived to ensure I’d taken a punishment.” She shuddered. “I don’t like them. I’m glad they’re not my master.”

“I feel the same, and—”

“Quiet,” Gast said sharply. “Remember your place in my dome, slaves.”

“Sorry, Sir,” Briella muttered, clasping her hands together and staring at the floor.

“I cannot see from here,” Walden said.

“No, we’ll go outside,” Gast said, “and meet whoever has journeyed to my dome.”

Briella and Nhah stood in silence, both too worried about upsetting their masters to speak, both concerned about the visitors and their intentions.

Within a few minutes Briella heard familiar voices.

Her heart sagged. It was the enforcers. And it was the same ones who’d visited that first day.

“Ah, so you’re having some kind of party,” the lead one said, his footsteps tapping into the eating room.

“If that’s how you describe a friend calling in for food and company then I guess so,” Gast replied, belligerence in his tone.

The enforcer huffed. “I see you have stuck to the rules, Gastion, and placed an extra cross on the floor while you have a visiting slave in your dome.”

Gast didn’t reply. Briella could imagine the surly expression he’d be wearing.

“And the cot is in here, good,” the enforcer said. “Mark that off the checklist, Baron.”

“Yes.” A new voice, one Briella didn’t recognize.

She stiffened as a shadow slipped over her and Nhah and slid up the wall in front of her.

“And have they eaten, these two slaves?”

“Yes,” Gast said. “We were just about to order them to clear up.”

“Good.”

Briella snatched in a breath. Her short skirt was being lifted. Cool air wafted over her buttocks.

“When did you last punish this one?” the enforcer asked.

“What business is it of yours?” Gast said.

Briella clenched her fists. Her ass was on show to everyone in the room. She didn’t like it, and she had a feeling neither did Gast.

“It’s very much my business; I have to report back to the king that policy is being upheld in all masters’ homes. And this ass, well, it looks only vaguely pink, hardly touched at all.”

“She’s disciplined when necessary,” Gast said.

Briella thought back to the night before. Yes, he’d disciplined her well and truly and her buttocks still held a sting if she rubbed her hand over them. There obviously wasn’t enough color on her skin though, not for the enforcer’s liking.

“And when was that?”

“She was disobedient last night. What can I say, she’s healthy with good skin, she heals quickly.”

“Mmm.” The enforcer flapped her skirt down.

Briella let out her breath, pleased that she was no longer being examined.

“And has she received medication in her ass?”

“Yes,” Gast said, the word sharp and fast.

“I should check.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Gast moved to Briella’s side, his body heat radiating onto her skin.

“That’s for me to decide,” the enforcer huffed.

“No, she’s mine. Medicating in every orifice is what I signed up for and you’ll have to trust me.”

“Why should I trust you when you’re already on your second slave?”

“Through no fault of my own.”

Briella trembled. She’d never heard her master’s voice so low and dangerous. She could almost feel the waves of anger flowing from him.

“I suppose not.” The enforcer paused. “Bend over, slave, I wish to examine your entry points.”

Briella bit on her bottom lip. Humiliation swept through her. She was going to be prodded and poked, examined by these horrible Roun men.

“Do not bend over,” Gast said.

“Yes, Sir.” A tremble attacked her belly.

“You’re playing with fire,” the enforcer said. “Have her bend double, I wish to check for myself that she has been entered in all holes.”

“No, that’s not going to happen. I’m telling you she has and you’ll have to believe me. Besides, how can you possibly know?”

“I just will.”

“No, you want to humiliate me and my slave and that’s not going to happen.”

Silence descended.

Next to her, Nhah let out a small squeak.

Gast shifted from one foot to the other, his shoulder brushing hers.

Briella wanted him to gather her up, hold her, murmur into her ear that everything would be all right.

They’d been having such a nice time and now this…

“I wasn’t aware you and Walden knew each other,” the enforcer said gruffly.

A modicum of relief went through Briella. He’d changed the subject.

“We’re acquaintances.”

“Who live a long way from each other.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Walden said. “But as masters it’s important for us to get together.”

The enforcer huffed again.

“And when we met at the lineup,” Walden continued, “Gast here, being the experienced master that he is, offered me support. This is my first slave; advice is appreciated.”

“We are here to advise you,” the enforcer snapped.

“And that’s welcome; however, since you do not have a slave woman, it is also pertinent for me, as a new master, to take advice from someone more experienced. And as you can see, my new slave is fit and well, her breathing stable, and her bottom nicely rouged.”

Nhah jerked a little and Briella guessed her skirt had been raised.

“So it is, well done,” the enforcer said a little begrudgingly. “Perhaps you should practice what you preach, Gastion.”

“I’ll see that my slave is thoroughly spanked the moment she has finished tidying up this room,” Gast said. “Spanked and beaten until she cries.”

Briella swallowed hard. Another spanking she didn’t mind but a beating till she cried, that injected fear into her.

The enforcer stomped across the room toward the door. “Fun as this is, I’m actually here on order of the king, to deliver notice.”

“Notice of what?” Gast asked.

“Tomorrow is the slave parade. The king insists, as you know, that all the new slaves are presented in full dress and freshly punished, at the main courtyard of the palace at midday.”

“Tomorrow?” Walden said. “That’s not much notice.”

“It’s enough notice. It’s what the king wants and what His Majesty wants, he gets.”

“Don’t we know it,” Gast muttered.

“Watch it,” the enforcer said, his words slashing through the air. “Disrespect will earn you a whipping.”

“I’m not being disrespectful, only stating a fact. The king takes what he wants regardless of the effect that has on others.”

“I should have you taken in for treason.”

“But you won’t.”

Briella locked her fingers together so tight her knuckles hurt. Surely that wouldn’t happen. They couldn’t take her beloved master away. Not now. Not when everything was working out so well.

“No, I won’t,” the enforcer said, “but only because you have a slave to look after.”

Gast didn’t answer.

“You’ll be in the courtyard tomorrow, all of you, in full presentation order. If not… well… the consequences will be severe, for everyone, male and female.”

“We’ll all be there,” Walden said. “As instructed.”

“Good,” the enforcer said. “I’d like to say it’s been a pleasure, but this bumpy drive out to your dome, Gastion, it’s nausea-inducing.”

“Knock me off your list next time, then,” Gast replied.

“And wouldn’t you just love that. Goodbye… for now.”

As the enforcer’s footsteps faded, the room went quiet except for the sound of Nhah’s breathing. She had a slight wheeze.

“Suns above, that man makes me want to kick something,” Gast said, his voice steely.

“He enjoys his job too much, seeing Zoid women, touching them. It’s no wonder he’s not a master; the power would go to his head,” Walden said.

“It already has.” Gast wound his arms around Briella and pulled her back into his chest. He breathed deep, as if taking in the scent of her, then touched his lips to her hair.

“We should go,” Walden said. “We have a long journey and then there’ll be much to do to prepare for the parade tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Gast said, releasing Briella.

She missed his arms around her; the gesture had been comforting after she’d been so scared.

“But I hope you’ll come again,” Gast said.

“Yes, we will, and you should visit us. Your slave might enjoy seeing the desert and the cambrels.”

“I’m sure she would,” Gast said, “very much.” He stroked his hand down her naked back.

The feeling of happiness that she’d had before began to soak through Briella. A life here on Roun was good. Her master was kind and considerate and protected and nurtured her. And if she could spend time with her friend, experience some of the wonders this clean planet had to offer, then she’d have more than she’d ever dreamed of.

And now children were being born. Would that… could that happen to them?

She felt giddy just thinking about how wonderful that would be.

“But before we go,” Walden said. “My slave needs medicating. Do you have a room we could use?”

“Of course, the sleeping room is to the left.”

“I remember.” Walden took Nhah’s hand. “Come, slave, I don’t want that wheeze to get any louder.”

They left the room and Gast urged Briella to face him. He tipped her chin up and studied her eyes. “I wouldn’t have let him touch you,” he whispered.

“I know, Sir.” She hadn’t known, but it was nice to hear him say it, in case there was a next time.

“I couldn’t have stood by and watched him poke and prod you like some animal. You’re to be treasured.”

“But… but I’m just a slave, Sir.” She slid her hands up his chest then knotted her fingers behind his neck, enjoying the way her nipples scratched on his chest hair.

“A slave, yes, but not just a slave. You are my Zoid woman, the person I share my dome and my bed with. I will not allow a bitter, twisted man like him to touch your body, a body I hold responsibility for.”

“I wouldn’t like him to touch me.”

“That pleases me.”

“It does?” she asked.

“Yes. I want you to only want me.”

“That’s already the case, Sir.”

He smiled, the softest smile she’d ever seen him produce, then set his lips over hers.

She sighed into his kiss and touched the tip of her tongue to his when he probed past her lips. Thoughts of the enforcers and the parade drifted away. She had no worries if she was in her master’s arms.

* * *

Briella woke the morning of the parade feeling refreshed. Her chest was a little tight, as usual, but her mind was clear and her limbs well rested.

Gast lay next to her, snoring softly, his arm secured around her shoulders.

Gently she stroked over the patch of hair that covered his sternum, then circled his nipples.

He stirred and she looked up at him.

His eyes were cracked open a fraction and he was looking at her. “Hey, beautiful.”

She smiled. “Hey, Sir.”

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, I always do when you hold me.”

He slid his hand over hers, then down to his groin. “You may take your medication orally.”

“Yes, Sir.” Her mouth watered just at the thought of taking him. His taste, his bed-warm skin, the steeliness of his cock, it was the perfect way to start the day.

She flicked the covers from him and slid lower, until his cock was towering before her face. Carefully she took it in her hand.

He released himself and placed his palm on her head.

She adored it when he did that. She didn’t know why but it was so controlling, yet also held an element of his craving for her.

After sweeping her tongue over his tip, she stretched her mouth wide and lowered onto him.

He moaned and drew his legs up slightly, bending his knees.

This spurred her on. She worked him with extra care, increasing the pressure as the hardness in her mouth grew. She fondled his hair-covered testicles and stroked the patch of skin between them and his anus.

He tightened his hold on her hair. “Ah, slave.”

Saliva dribbled from the corners of her mouth but she ignored it and kept on bobbing up and down. A pearl of salty fluid coated her tongue and she knew he was getting close to his erotic moment.

He bucked his hips. She increased the pressure of her lips, hugging his shaft with her tongue.

“Stars above,” he muttered, then jammed her onto his cock.

Her mouth and throat were full of him as the first rope of semen jettisoned from his tip.

She swallowed greedily, taking it in fast and being careful not to waste a drop.

He released her head and she drew upward, only to dip back down again rapidly and guzzle the next burst of his release.

She rolled his testicles, delighting in the long low groan that seemed to generate in the very depths of his chest as a final spurt of pleasure shot down her throat.

Once she was sure he’d emptied himself into her, she released him and caught his cock in her free hand. Sitting at his side, she continued to fondle his testicles.

“I like it when you do that,” he said, cupping her right breast and flicking her nipple.

“I like doing it.” She smiled and watched his testicles rolling in her palms, soft sacs of skin that she knew were super sensitive and contained what she needed to live.

“Even if you haven’t had the erotic pleasure?”

“Yes. I enjoy your erotic pleasure, Master. Feeling your gratification, your release. I enjoy everything about it.”

He reached for her hand, drew it up from his testicles, then pulled her on top of him.

She giggled as he brushed her hair from her face.

“That makes two of us then, because I enjoy everything about you.”

She kissed him, her heart swelling with love.

Should she tell him? That she loved him? Not the way she loved her parents, brother, or cousins back home. Or the way she cared for and loved Nhah. But a new intense passionate love that made her feel crazy at the thought of not being with him. Of knowing she’d break if he left her, not just physically but also emotionally.

“It’s time to get on with our day,” he said, breaking the kiss and easing her off him. “I’ll be glad when it’s over.”

“Why, Sir?”

“The king is not my favorite person.”

“Why is that, Sir?”

He paused. “It’s none of your concern.”

“Of course, Sir. Sorry for asking, Sir.”

He stood and plucked a chair from the side of the room, set it in front of the vast window. “You will shower, wash your hair, then sit here. I wish the suns to dry you before we begin preparations.”

“As you wish, Sir.”

“I will be back in one hour.” He left the room.

Briella stared at the shimmering skyline. It was going to be a hot day. Gast, the man she loved, didn’t like the king… why not?

Chapter Sixteen

Briella stood under the shower fall enjoying the sweet scent of the soap Gast had left for her to use. It was so girly and light, the way she hoped her sunflowers would smell.

After dabbing off the worst of the drips, she wandered naked into the sleeping room and sat in the chair facing the window.

The suns’ rays were hot and powerful and she could feel the last of the water evaporating away.

“You’re ready?” Gast said, stepping into the room.

“Yes, but your breakfast. I—”

“I’ve fed myself, and here is yours.” He set a plate on her bare lap, the underside cool. On it stood a cup and a slab of morning protein. “You can eat while I braid your hair.”

“Yes, Sir. As you wish.”

“I do.”

He reached for the brush that sat on the dresser, then began to carefully ease the tangles from her long locks. He was so gentle, so tender that she became almost hypnotized by his movements.

“Eat,” he said, “it will be a long day.”

“Yes, of course, sorry, Sir.” She began to nibble at her breakfast.

Her hair was practically dry by the time he’d finished brushing it and sectioning it off. And by the time he’d plaited it in several long strands, she was getting quite warm in the sunshine.

“It’s nearly finished,” he said when she fidgeted.

“Thank you, Sir.”

“And it’s very becoming like this.” He set about pinning the long braids on the top of her head, like a crown.

After a few minutes he took the plate from her and held out his hand. “Come, that is the first stage of preparation for the parade complete.”

“Are there many more stages, Sir?”

“A few.” He led her to the cross in the corner of the sleeping room. It had stood dormant since the flogging on her first day. But now it seemed it was to be used again.

As he put the plate on the bed, he nodded at it. “Step up there.”

She swallowed, wondering if the flogger was to be taken to her ass again. It seemed the king was expecting the slaves to have marked skin on their buttocks, and the more heavily rouged the better by the sounds of it.

Without replying she stood against the cross, stretching her limbs to match its shape.

“No, turn around,” he said. “Face me, not the wall.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Turning, she saw that he was right in front of her. With a look of concentration on his face, he attached first her arms and then her legs so she was spread out like a star before him.

Cool air washed over her pussy and her nipples tightened as she admired the thickness of his shoulder muscles and the broad span of his back as he stooped before her.

He ran his hands up her legs, ankles, knees, thighs and then set his thumbs on her pussy lips. He glanced up at her, his eyes heavy and pupils wide, then tipped forward and swiped his tongue over her clitoris.

“Oh!” She cried out and bucked forward, straining against the cross. That had been the last thing she’d expected.

“Shh…” he said, his breath washing over her exposed clitoris. “There is no need for you to cry out… not yet.”

“Oh, Sir, but…”

“But nothing. This is what I want to do to your body and you will allow me to do it.”

She was breathing hard, her breasts shifting as she stared down at him.

Once again he tipped forward, tongue out, and licked her clitoris. The sensation was like nothing she could ever have imagined. It was so intimate, so thrilling. She clenched her fists, curled her toes, and was glad of the support the cross gave her.

He did it again, but this time stroked over and over, before setting his mouth on top of her delicate bundle of nerves.

Again she cried out; the pleasure was extreme.

Her cry seemed to spur him on. He nuzzled closer and slipped two fingers into her pussy.

“Oh, Sir…” she managed squeezing her eyes shut. The erotic pleasure would soon be upon her. There’d be no medication to absorb, no reason for the almost-violent sensation she knew would rack her body.

But damn, it felt good.

He pumped in and out of her, his fingers mimicking what his cock usually did.

She struggled and bucked. Her mind cleared of everything except her master’s mouth on her and his fingers inside her. Bright lights flashed in her vision, the three discs of the suns seemingly burned onto her retinas.

“I’m going to… oh, it’s here.”

The pressure built, a volcano of need. She squealed and he upped the speed at which his tongue worked.

Suddenly it was there. She had no escape; he was dragging the erotic pleasure from her.

Briella’s mouth fell open in a silent scream as she was held suspended in bliss for a beautiful moment, then it all crashed down. She jerked violently, fighting the cross. Her limbs spasmed as her pussy clenched his fingers.

He suckled and rolled her clitoris on the end of his tongue, stretching the moment on and on. She’d never experienced anything like it. Such surrender of control. Her body barely her own, but equally never more part of her.

Eventually he slowed.

Her limbs sagged and her neck drooped.

The erotic pleasure had been exhausting that time, more than usual. It was also strange not to have a change in her breathing, apart from it being hard to catch from exertion.

He was kissing her belly, trailing his damp tongue over her skin. He still had his fingers lodged inside her, gently palpating her internal wall.

It felt so good.

She willed her heart to slow; it seemed as though it would beat right out of her chest, and her pulse was thunderous in her ears.

He nuzzled her navel, his sharp jawline scratching her skin.

“Sir,” she gasped, looking down at him.

“Slave, that was incredible.”

“I know…”

He looked up. “You’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

She smiled. His face was flushed and damp.

“I intend to do that to you a lot.”

“Okay.” She giggled, it got louder and louder and eventually he stood and stared into her face.

“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t know what…” She was trying to hold in more laughter.

“You’re happy?”

“Yes, and content, satisfied. I never would have thought, strung to a cross in an alien world, but right now, I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

He withdrew from her pussy and held his fingers up. They glistened with her moisture.

“And I wouldn’t have you anywhere else.” He put them in his mouth and sucked until his cheeks hollowed.

The gesture seemed so rude and primitive it made her pussy contract again, a final blast of erotic pleasure.

He pulled them out from his mouth slowly as if savoring her taste. “And now it’s time to decorate you.”

“Decorate me?”

“Yes, it’s traditional that slaves be painted.”

“With what, Sir?”

He stepped to one side and held up a paintbrush and small brass pot. “From the very first parade slaves have had designs marking their bodies instead of clothes.”

“So I’ll be naked, there, for everyone to see?” She didn’t like that thought. Being naked for her master was one thing, but for the whole kingdom?

“No, I do not wish for that. Your pussy and ass are for my eyes only.” He paused. “I’d prefer to cover your breasts too but that would attract attention.”

“Okay, Sir. Thank you.”

“You’re glad?”

“Yes, I don’t want everyone to see my private holes. When the enforcer lifted my skirt it made me feel…”

“What?”

“I don’t know, dirty perhaps, humiliated.”

“But you don’t feel like that with me?”

“Of course not. I want you to look at me, dare I say it admire me. I’m yours to do with as you wish, am I not?”

“Yes, but with that comes great responsibility. I want you to feel safe and not dirty or humiliated.” A grin twisted his mouth. “Unless you’ve been disobedient and then a spanking over my lap is good for you.”

She cast her eyes downward, afraid he’d see that she enjoyed her spankings.

“What?” He tipped her chin.

“Nothing, Sir.”

“Tell me,” he said sternly.

“I… I don’t know if I should, Sir, but I like it when you take your hand to my ass.”

“You do?”

She nodded.

“Good, because I enjoy it too.” He glanced at the cross. “Shame I can’t redden you now, but it’s just too early. You’ll have to be freshly spanked before the parade. It is expected.”

“But you said no one will see my ass, Sir?” She was confused.

“It may well be checked.” He stepped away. “But I must get on with this job.”

He dipped the end of the paintbrush into the pot then again stooped. He began to drag the tip over her thigh, creating swirling patterns.

It tickled a little and Briella rested her head back, enjoying the delicate sensation. It was as if the lightest Roun breeze was caressing her.

On and on he worked, first her left and then her right thigh.

He moved onto her belly, the design intricate and gliding. She tensed as he worked up to her breasts, swirling the paint around her nipples and to the hollow of her throat.

“I’m pleased with the result.” He set down the pot. “Look.”

Briella did as instructed. “Wow.” She’d had no idea her master was such a talented artist. On her abdomen small pictures depicted the mountains and trees, birds and suns. Around her nipples was a symmetrical pattern shaped like stars, and her thighs depicted a complex arrangement of dots that ran into each other like a web.

“It’s beautiful.”

“You’re an easy canvas to work on.” He took her nipples between his fingers and thumbs and rolled them. “One last thing.”

“Yes, Sir.” She watched her nipples tightening as a tug went from them to her pussy. Why did that happen? It felt amazing.

“Very sweet, stay like that.” Gast stepped away and reached into the drawer.

Briella struggled to see what he was getting. When she saw she wasn’t surprised.

It was the nipple clamps.

“But, Sir…”

“There’s no debate. These are going on.” He licked his thumb and finger, then rolled her right nipple again.

The dampness only added to the stimulation and it beaded hard and tight.

He attached the clamp.

“Ah…” she cried out, struggled against the cross. Her instinct was to remove it and get rid of the pain that bit like a knife.

“Shh…” His mouth was against hers. “Breathe through it, you can, you did it the other day, slave. It’s okay.”

She panted and tried to still her frantic breaths; they were making her chest jiggle and adding to the discomfort.

“That’s it,” he soothed, “let it settle.”

It was settling; he was right. The pain was becoming less acute and turning into a dull throb.

Suddenly the other nipple was tugged and then the other clamp applied.

She cried out with tears in her eyes.

Gast captured her face in his hands. “Slave, stop this nonsense. You can handle the clamps.”

“Oh, but Sir, they hurt so bad.”

“All slaves must wear clamps to the parade. You will try your best to tolerate them without this fuss.”

She sniffed and swallowed, willing the fierce pain to subside. She’d gone from a half existence on Zoid to a hyper-existence here. It was hard to adjust.

He pressed his forehead to hers. Their breaths mingled. He smelled of her arousal, of the earthy paint, and of his own unique masculine scent.

Gradually the clamps became tolerable, and when they did he ran his thumb over her lips, stretching them to the left a little. “You will not cry out any more?”

“No, Sir.”

“Or try and remove them?”

“Of course not, Sir. They’re yours to remove.”

“That’s correct. Now I must unharness you. It’s time to drive to Ryl. The parade will start soon.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He studied her. “You’ll be okay until afterward for medication?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He nodded, then set about releasing her arms and legs. As she rested each arm down, he took it in his hands, rubbing and soothing the aches and assisting the blood flow.

She was grateful for his affection and care. He made her feel so revered, worshipped almost.

When he was apparently happy that her limbs were working normally, Gast went to the cupboard. He retrieved a skirt, not hers, but a different one in the palest orange, like the dust that coated the mountains. “Put this on,” he said, laying it on the bed.

Briella quickly slipped into it, glad that it covered her pussy and ass cheeks.

“And your boots,” he said, placing them before her. “I’ve fixed the heels, they’re quite secure.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

As she tugged them on, he went back to the cupboard. “I made this, for such an occasion.” He held up what appeared to be a several strings of wooden beads all attached top and bottom.

“It’s very lovely, Sir.”

“It will cover your back but not your breasts.” He stepped up to her.

She could see that at the base, like a belt, the beads were connected to a strap, and at the top they gathered together so it became a ‘v’ shape.

“Turn around.”

She did and he fastened the top of the beaded vest to her collar. It dragged and felt heavy, quite uncomfortable and she frowned and fiddled with the front, not liking the way it compressed her throat.

“That weight should go away,” he said, coming in front of her. “When this belt takes the weight.”

She nodded and watched as he circled it around her waist. She could see now that he’d painted her so that the pictures complemented the position of the belt and where the short skirt started and ended.

As soon as the belt was buckled, the beads sat comfortably and were supported. They were cool against her back and when she moved slightly they tickled and clinked quietly.

“It’s traditional to have beads at these parades. The sphere, as you know, is an idolized symbol on Roun, representing the three suns that keep us warm.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Some slaves will have beads in their hair, on their nipple clamps, or even in their ears,” he said. “But I wished for something different.” He huffed. “I’m not one for following the crowd.”

“I know that, Sir.”

“Yes, I guess you are beginning to get to know me.”

Briella thought she knew him pretty well. But he didn’t give her time to answer, because he took her hand and led her from the sleeping room.

Chapter Seventeen

The journey to Ryl was bumpy and Briella found herself sitting forward in Gast’s vehicle. She didn’t want to damage the beads or knock her elaborate hairdo.

The city loomed before them, rising into the lilac sky, and at the very center, the palace towered highest.

She enjoyed looking out of the large windows at this new city, seeing the Roun men going about their business; in and out of shops and eating places, chatting on street corners. A few had women on leads walking behind them, slaves who weren’t due at the parade today.

“Would you like to live here, Sir?” she asked. “And enjoy the shops and eating?”

“No, I like the quiet. The city is not for me.” He continued to stare straight ahead. “Unless I’m with people I care about, I’d rather be alone.”

“I understand.”

“I care about you,” he said, reaching over and squeezing her hand. “I like having you in my home, in my life.”

“I’m glad, Sir. I like being with you, too. And I hope I do you proud today.”

“You will…” He paused. “Just not too proud.”

“What do you mean?”

He withdrew his hand. “It’s complicated.”

She wanted to ask more, but he parked the vehicle up and lifted the door. He climbed out and she was left in silence for a moment.

“Get out,” he said, opening her door. “And from now on, do not speak unless you are spoken to. I don’t wish to have people saying my slave has a mind of her own.”

“Yes, Sir. I understand.” She stepped out of the car into the heat of the city.

He leaned in and opened a small compartment, withdrew a black paddle. Turning to her, he said, “I must spank you, so that you’re red for the parade.”

“Yes, Sir.” She swallowed and glanced around. It wasn’t busy but there were people milling about. Masters and slaves, a few men she presumed were enforcers as they had on the same uniform as the ones who’d visited their dome.

“Turn around,” Gast said, “and hold onto the vehicle.”

She did as he’d asked, her knees a little weak and her pussy trembling. The clamps tightened and dragged as she tipped over to a ninety-degree angle.

He flipped up the back of her skirt.

Within her boots she curled her toes, a now familiar wave of humiliation washing over her at being exposed this way.

Gast stroked her buttocks, each one in turn. Then with a sudden, resounding thwack, he brought the paddle down hard on her left side.

“Argh,” she cried out. The sting was brutal, like a flame had been taken to her skin.

“Shhh, slave. I will not have men staring this way.”

“I’m sorry, Sir.” She shifted her hips trying to escape the pain. Of course she couldn’t.

“And try to keep still.” He set his hand in the small of her back, over the beads. “This is the quickest way to bring you to the required redness. Take it. Take all of it so that you know I’m pleased with you.”

“Yes, Sir. I will, Sir. I promise.” She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing more was coming.

And it did. The paddle hit down on her right buttock, then her left again.

He paused briefly to smooth away the burn, then resumed spanking her swift and hard.

She bit on her bottom lip to stop from screaming out. It took all of her willpower not to push away, run away. Standing to take the strokes was so hard, such a test of stamina.

A tear escaped her eye and she wished she could rub her clitoris, to give her something else to concentrate on. But she knew full well that would anger her master. He would not want anyone to see the erotic pleasure happening, not here, beneath the palace.

Finally the spanking came to an end. Again he rubbed over her buttocks, his callused hands adding further insult to her smarting skin.

She moaned and clenched her fists. A drop of sweat had formed between her breasts.

“That should be enough to keep them happy,” he said, flicking down her skirt.

“Yes, Sir.” She sniffed.

“Stand straight.”

Briella did as he’d asked. Her belly was tight; she was a little damp between her legs.

“Slave,” he said, gently wiping his thumb over her cheek and collecting the rogue tear. “Soon we will be home again, I promise.”

“Yes, Sir. I know, Sir.”

He nodded and pulled his eyebrows low.

She stared into his eyes, feeling lost in them, consumed by them.

“I’m sorry, I should have gotten you used to the paddle before this, but we simply didn’t have time.”

“It’s okay, Sir. I understand.”

“You’re so sweet.”

For a moment he looked as though he might kiss her, but then, as if remembering where he was and that enforcer eyes maybe upon him, he pulled back.

Briella beat down a tremble of disappointment; her master’s kisses were precious and she didn’t like being denied.

He put the paddle back in the vehicle, then reached for her lead. “Here,” he said. “Make sure you walk two paces behind me at all times.”

“Yes, Sir.” She knew that, it had been drummed into her at the training camp. They’d even practiced it by leading each other.

He clipped it to her collar, shut the vehicle, then turned.

As he paced toward the palace, she rushed to keep up and stay the correct distance from him. She was glad to have walking to concentrate on. The pain on her ass cheeks was acute, and her apprehension about the coming parade threatened to take over her emotions.

They climbed up several layers of steep steps. Briella grew breathless and was glad when Gast paused at each dogleg for her to rest.

As they grew closer to a huge stone archway, a hum of voices greeted them.

“We need to hurry. We’re last to arrive,” Gast said, tugging her lead.

“Yes, Sir.” She found the energy to add fuel to her final few steps.

At the archway, Gast paused.

The parade ground was vast and towered over by huge walls with turrets spaced at wide lengths throughout it. Standing at the base of the walls, several deep, were Roun men. There appeared to be a number of slaves, but mainly it was just men. They all had keen, interested faces and their gazes were scouring the masters and decorated slaves standing in the center.

Briella’s attention was brought to the king. He presided over the ceremony from a huge brass throne with black bird feathers pluming from his crown. He had a thin face and long limbs. Dressed in scarlet, he gripped the armrest of his throne as he scanned the slaves who were lining up with their masters in a neat row.

“Walk,” Gast said, tugging her lead.

Briella fell into step behind him, aware of faces turning toward her.

She was glad of the skirt to cover her ass and pussy, but wished her breasts didn’t jiggle so. When her master looked at them, clamped and heavy, she enjoyed his attention. But these strange men, they made the hairs on the back of her neck spike.

Gast steered her to the end of the line, next to a slave with long red hair dotted with beads.

She took up her submissive pose, head bowed, hands clasped, as he stood behind her, lead draped over her shoulder.

She knew he was hating this. All of these people staring, and him having to obey orders, conform. Gast was happiest in his own dome, living by his own rules.

“Masters and slaves,” the king called. “I welcome you to the parade of the arrivals. We are pleased with a day of three suns and one moon for the males of Roun to enjoy the spectacle of perfect domination and submission.”

A gentle round of applause echoed around the courtyard walls.

Briella stared at the dust that had collected on her boots and listened to the sound of her master breathing behind her.

“I wish the slaves to look up so I can admire the Zoid women’s female faces.”

Briella looked up.

The king was staring straight at her.

Her stomach lurched. Her heart skipped a beat.

I hope you don’t make me too proud. Gast’s words came back to her

The king gave her a twisted smile and stood. Then, much to her relief, he moved to the opposite end of the line. His paces were long and sure; he wasn’t an old man, but virile and athletic.

She wondered how many slaves he had in his palace.

“It seems much effort has been made by the new masters to present correctly,” the king said, starting a slow walk down the line of slaves. “I’m pleased and I’m sure the crowd is, too.”

Again the crowd clapped; this time there were a few whistles.

Briella was glad to have Gast with her. Many of these men would have been denied masterhood. If they’d ever broken Roun law, were jobless or without a single occupation home they’d built themselves, then they weren’t eligible. At the camp they’d been told that it was an honor for Roun men to be chosen to have a slave and many on the planet were jealous.

The thought of these slave-less men having free access to her was frightening. They seemed fascinated by breasts, curves, and femininity. She was in no doubt they’d want to touch her, stroke her, lick her, and possibly beat her.

A small tremble wended its way up her spine.

“It’s okay, slave. I’m here,” Gast whispered.

She pulled in a deep breath and steeled herself. Yes. Her master was with her. He would protect her and ensure her wellbeing. He’d promised her that. She was his responsibility. He would see to it that she was well.

“When a new group of slaves arrive on Roun, we are proud. Proud to assist our planetary friend Zoid in their time of need. These women have shown themselves to be receptive of medication and eternally grateful for the life of servant-ship that we, the men of Roun, can give them.” The king’s voice was getting louder as he walked down the line toward Briella.

“And now that we have babies being born, something my ancestors believed would never happen, I’m proud that my ruling years, my wisdom, my negotiation skills created that and I will be forever in history. If I hadn’t worked the deal with the Zoid king.” He paused. “Who I have to say is as stubborn a king as I’ve ever met.”

There was a widespread chuckle.

Briella frowned. It was disrespectful to have her honorable old king spoken of like that. He’d taken on a dying planet from his father, a rock with no hope and people who were unable to enjoy fulfilling lives, and done the best he could with broken tools. The deal he’d made with Roun had been only one of several to ensure the survival of the Zoid species, even if not on their original planet.

“If I hadn’t made that momentous deal,” the king went on, “there would be no beautiful slaves, no domes and tents and bricked abodes being served by Zoid women. There’d be no new Roun children being created on our planet.” He raised his hands to the sky, fingers outstretched. “Thanks to the suns and the moons, for through them we have been blessed.”

This time the applause was wild and raucous. The clapping ricocheted around the palace walls. The soldiers on the turrets fired their weapons into the air, huge puffs of purple smoke billowing behind them.

The newborns, the children, really were a celebrated thing. Briella wondered why they hadn’t been mentioned at the training camp. Were the tutors concerned that the slaves would refuse their medication for fear of becoming with child?

If so, they needn’t have been. Certainly not from her perspective. She would adore giving birth to Gast’s child. To see it cradled in his big strong arms, watch his face as he spoke gentle words to the tiny scrap of life they’d made together. He was so big and strong, and the child would be so delicate and in need of him.

Just the way she was.

“Ah, slave, I see your thoughts are elsewhere.”

Briella snapped in a breath. The king stood directly before her.

“Your Majesty,” she said, quickly bowing her head and dipping her knees. “It’s a great honor to be on Roun; myself, my family, and my king thank you for your outstanding, and forever to be remembered, generosity and wisdom.”

“Oh, Gastion, you have quite a Zoid woman here.” The king hooked his finger beneath her chin, and although speaking to her master, directed the words at Briella. “Talkative, respectful, and outstandingly beautiful. You must be very proud.”

Briella closed her eyes. She didn’t want to stare at the king. That would land her in trouble. But the way he’d raised her face left her little choice but to look at him.

“And how is she taking her medication?” the king asked.

“Acceptable, Your Majesty,” Gast said gruffly.

“Only acceptable? She is not ensuring you get pleasure?”

“That’s not the purpose. It is to sustain her life.”

“Oh, Gastion, do not think that I was born yesterday. I’m a man as much as you are. Medicating slaves is pleasurable. If it wasn’t, these men,” he swept his hand in the direction of the crowd, “wouldn’t be here wishing they were masters and allowed, on rule of I, the king, to medicate Zoid women and take pleasure from that.”

“It’s a great honor and I take it very seriously,” Gast said.

“I’m sure you do.” The king slid his hand from Briella’s chin, over her collar and to her sternum. He pressed gently with the tip of his finger. “She is every bit as beautiful as your last slave.”

Briella heard Gast’s sharp intake of breath and the lead, resting over her shoulder, jerked slightly.

“What was her name?” the king said. “Oh, yes, Skylar, she was indeed like the sky. Bright and vibrant, keen for medication. Well, from me anyway.” He chuckled.

Gast stepped forward, his arm brushing Briella’s shoulder. She had no idea what the king was talking about. How would he know about Gast’s ex-slave? How she reacted when medicated?

“What’s the matter, Gastion? You don’t like to think of your king medicating your slave?” There was mocking in his voice. “That would indeed be disrespectful. I am at liberty to medicate any woman I want. Take pleasure from their bodies and force their submission.”

“Skylar was content with me,” Gast said. “She was thriving on Roun. Wasn’t that the deal? Our planets were moving forward together? Everyone healthy and happy.”

“A deal, yes. But not one you made. Your semen was a commodity I traded, and Skylar, well, she was… special.”

“To me, not to you.”

“How dare you.” The king rushed to Gast, pushed his face up close so their noses almost touched. “All of the Zoid slaves are special to me. I ordered them here and my ships transported them here. If I want to medicate anyone of them, I will, and no one will stand in my way.”

“You had no right to take her away from me.” Gast stared at his king, belligerence in his voice and in his eyes.

“I have every right to do whatever I please; this is my kingdom, I am lord and ruler, or had you forgotten that?”

“No, I could never forget that.” Still the same air of forcefulness.

“You speak as if that is a bad thing. That I am the king of Roun.”

Gast was silent.

The king reached forward and took hold of Briella’s lead where it had sagged in the center.

Gast gritted his teeth; he didn’t release the leather strip.

“I will have this one, too,” the king said. “In the hope of teaching you, a master of Roun, a lesson. I am your king, I own all of the slaves. I can do whatever I please, and just so you are in no doubt, she will enjoy my methods of medication very much. I like to get… how shall I say… imaginative.”

“No,” Gast said, puffing up his chest and rounding over the king. “You will not take her. I will not allow that to happen again.”

“You have no choice,” the king shouted as he snapped the lead from Gast’s grip.

Briella toppled forward, staggering on her heels, her neck yanked. What was happening?

“Leave her,” Gast bellowed. “She is mine.”

Chapter Eighteen

Chaos ensued. A swarm of guards, all with weapons, surrounded Briella, Gast, and the king.

Briella was tugged to the left, Gast pushed roughly to the right.

She squealed.

He roared.

The king laughed.

Rough hands gripped her arms, and although she lost her balance and toppled, she remained upright. Guards were all around her, their big hands all over her body.

She was being dragged away toward a turret. “Master!” she cried, her voice so loud it scratched her throat. “No! No! Please.”

Her wails of distress were ignored. Fear pulsed through her. What was happening? This hadn’t been how the parade was supposed to go.

She could hear Gast shouting. Calling for her. “Slave. I will come for you, I will—”

There was a dull thud, then his voice could no longer be heard over the jeering crowd.

She scanned the arena, her gaze falling briefly on Nhah, whose mouth was open in horror and her eyes wide.

A chest-aching sob ripped up from Briella. Her master. Her beautiful master. What had they done to him? She needed him. Wanted him. He was her protector.

The guards continued to manhandle her, rushing her through the crowd. She was groped and her hair stroked by the men she went past. Tears sluiced down her face. Her vision blurred.

Suddenly silence surrounded her. She’d been pushed into the base of a turret. The walls were stone and before her was another set of steps. Flames lit the way upward and their shadows danced on the walls.

There were two guards still with her, one on each side, each gripping her upper arm.

“No, please, take me to my master,” she said, looking around frantically. Why was she here?

“Remember your place, Zoid woman,” the guard on her left said, his voice gruff. “You do not have the privilege of asking for what you want, let alone receiving it.”

“But my master, Gastion Ribald Newton of Reme, I am his. I should be returned to him.”

The guard who’d spoken reached around and unclipped her lead. “This will be returned to him… if he wants it.”

“He will want it. He’ll want me.” She glared at him. “And he’ll get me.”

He laughed, his nose wrinkling and his large teeth seeming to glow in the dim light. “I doubt that. This is the second time your master has had an altercation with the king.”

“Why? What was the first?”

“You don’t need to know.” He tugged her toward the base of the steps.

Before she knew it, Briella was stumbling upward. Her chest was tight, her breaths short. Her heart beat fast and terror and confusion abounded in her mind.

On and on she was pulled up the stairs. They twisted and turned and as they went past the open slits that worked as windows or shooting points, the sound of the braying crowd echoed in.

Eventually they reached a heavy door with a huge lock. The guard on her right turned a black key and shoved the door open.

It led into a circular room with a stone floor with large glass windows that looked out at the parade ground.

The guards pushed her in with a rough shove on her back. The beads pressed against her skin as she cried out.

Luckily there was a makeshift bed in the center of the room and she landed on that, arms outstretched, breaking her fall.

“A slave woman should not demand anything,” the guard who’d been quiet on their trip up the stairs said. “Being here on Roun and being medicated is our gift to you. You need to show the king more respect and accept that you will belong to any master he sees fit.”

“But I want…”

The door slammed shut and she was left alone.

Some of her hair had come loose and she pushed it behind her ears, studied the room she’d found herself in.

It was sparsely furnished; save for the bed there was an empty table, shoved up against the wall, and a toilet in the corner, partially screened by a thick red curtain.

She looked out of the low and panoramic window. The crowd was still clapping and hooting, though she could see no sign of either Gast or any other masters and slaves. It seemed they’d been dispersed.

Because of her and Gast?

She didn’t understand any of it.

She just wanted her master.

Crawling fully onto the bed, she curled up, fetal-like, hugging her knees and tucking her head down. She hoped her breaths would come easy again after the rush up the stairs, but as she lay there, willing normality, she realized that wasn’t going to happen. She wasn’t just out of breath from the energy she’d expelled; it was also because she needed Gast to medicate her.

Willing herself calm, she ceased all other movement, knowing she needed to conserve air consumption.

What would happen?

Would they just leave her to die?

If only Gast had medicated her before the parade. She’d be okay for a while. But he hadn’t, and she knew that within the hour she’d be on her last breaths.

Unless the king decided to save her. What if he medicated her? The thought of him coming to this room, his cock stiff for her and his imaginative ways of medicating at the ready made her shudder.

She didn’t like him. He had meanness in his eyes. He wasn’t the man of honor he thought himself to be. He was egotistical, self-centered, a king who thought of his needs before the people of his planet, be they masters or slaves. He just fooled himself and others into thinking he had their interests at heart.

Twenty minutes later, Briella’s fingernails had taken on a faintly blue shade.

She stretched out on the bed, hoping to elongate her chest, allow easier access for the meager amount of air coming in. The clamps dragged and she made the decision to remove them.

As she released them, the blood rushed to her breasts, the pain of it stabbed at her nipples. She’d known the pain to be erotic and sensual when Gast had removed them as he’d medicated her, but this time it was just pain; functional, cruel pain.

Luckily, though, it quickly faded to a dull ache.

The parade ground was quiet now. She guessed the crowd had disbanded but she didn’t have the energy to check.

She closed her eyes, let the blackness wash over her. She hoped her death would be quick. That suffocation in this alien atmosphere would be painless and merciful. She’d heard stories; it was like drowning, they said, darkness engulfed you and then you slipped away into nothing.

She’d hoped she’d never have to find out.

Gast. I need you.

Another ten minutes passed. Her thoughts were disjointed. She spread her arms out, trying to maximize her rib expansion but it made no difference.

Suddenly the door opened.

She blinked open her eyes.

Standing before her was a Roun man. He wore a mask, the way the healer had, with just slits for his eyes and a hole for breathing. His broad chest was bare of clothing but adorned with ink in a swirling pattern that reached over his right shoulder. He wore black trousers teamed with leather boots that laced up the front to his knees.

“The king has sent me to medicate you,” he said gruffly.

She whimpered and turned away. She only wanted Gast’s cock inside her. That was the way it was for her now.

“You have two choices,” he said, shutting the door. “It’s me or die.”

She pushed to sitting and stared out of the window. Where was Gast? Was he still in the palace? Surely they could have sent her master to medicate her.

Or had they hurt him so badly that wasn’t possible? Or worse…

Her limbs were weak and she was dizzy but Briella managed to pull herself to the window. Clinging to the sill, she stared at the parade ground. A large brown cross had been erected in the center and a few people were wandering about. There seemed to be an air of anticipation.

“What… is going on…?” she asked.

“It’s not your concern, slave.”

He was behind her; she could feel the heat of his body, hear his breaths. His smell was different than Gast’s; spicier, harsher.

“How do you wish to be medicated?”

He was asking her? Even in her dopey state that surprised her.

“Answer me, time is running out.” His tone was firmer.

“I don’t… want you to medicate me.”

“I understand that.” He paused. “And you do have a choice here.”

“I know. It’s die or you?”

He sighed. “I know Gastion, he is a good man and probably a good master.”

“You know him?” She turned to face him.

His expression softened. “Yes, and I would bet my own life on the fact he would not wish you to die because you refused medication from me.” He paused. “I am a good man, I only wish to help.”

She shook her head, stumbling from the window as she did so. Not quite making the bed, she clutched the table and bent over it.

“Hey, be careful.” He gripped her arm. “And surely you can see, we need to do it now.”

But she didn’t want this man’s semen. She wanted Gast’s.

Gast. Her beautiful master. She’d never see him again. She was suffocating. They’d been right, it was like slipping underwater.

“But I…”

“Can you picture his face when he’s told you are dead?”

“No, no I don’t want to picture that.”

“Then please, take what I can give you.”

Thoughts tumbled through her mind. This man, this friend of Gast’s, he was talking rationally, she knew that. And she didn’t want to die. She wanted to live a long and happy life in the dome with her master. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

“Good.” He nodded seriously. “That is the right decision.”

She turned. Instantly there was a pressure on her back, her skirt was flipped up.

“I’ll insert it into your ass.”

Arse? No…

She shook her head. “No… please, not there.”

“So where? Tell me soon if you want to see your master again.”

See him again. Yes, she did want that. More than anything.

“My… pussy,” she managed, her voice barely a whisper. “Please, not my ass, my pussy.”

He didn’t delay and within a second the smooth domed head of his cock was pushing into her pussy.

She groaned. She wasn’t wet the way she always was with Gast. It didn’t feel erotic, just functional.

He gripped her hips, a gentle but firm hold, and slid to full depth.

She hoped it would be quick. That he’d give her the gift of breath without the need for a long drawn-out process.

He pulled out, pumped back in. His way was easier now and she figured he’d used saliva as lubrication.

She pictured Gast, handsome and strong and working in his yard with his muscles rippling beneath the surface of his skin. She’d do anything to be with him, at his dome, caring for him, him caring for her.

A long low groan sounded above her. The cock in her pussy stiffened.

Then it was there, a hot spurt of semen flooding her body.

She dragged in a breath. It whooshed down her airways, inflating her lungs.

Another thick shot of semen arrived, and she pulled in fast breaths, renewing her blood with the air she needed.

He carried on pumping, filling her, saturating her. He was clearly a virile, potent man with copious amounts of medication and she was thankful for that.

Finally he stilled. He, too, was breathing fast as he continued to grip her hips.

But she wanted him gone. The deed had been done; they’d gotten down to business. There had been no erotic pleasure on her behalf; it had all been about breathing and having the chance to see her master again.

“You are feeling better?” he asked.

“Yes… thank you.”

He withdrew, slipping from her pussy and releasing her hips.

Briella stood, thankful that the dizziness had receded and breathing was once again normal.

The man stood before her with his cock protruding from a gap in his trousers. It was still hard and thick, the end glossy.

“Please give Gastion my regards,” he said, placing his hands on his hips.

“How do you know him?”

“We were in the same section at the childhood facility.”

“I see.”

“I hope you will tell him that I dealt your medication with respect.”

“Yes, because you have. I’m grateful. And thank you for making me think straight, it’s hard to when feeling so unwell.” Hope suddenly filled her heart. “So you do think I’ll see him again?”

“That is for the king to decide.” He began to tuck his deflating cock away.

“And when will that happen?”

“Soon.” He nodded at the window and frowned. “I just hope your master is strong enough.”

“For what? Strong enough for what?” Hope was replaced with fear.

He pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“What? Tell me.”

“You will see soon enough.” He turned and left the room, leaving Briella with clear breaths but a hundred questions.

Chapter Nineteen

A sudden roar coming from the parade ground blasted through the turret. Briella rushed to the window and was shocked to see the crowd had multiplied tenfold.

Roun men lined the walls again the way they had for the slave parade. Their attention appeared to be on the cross in the middle. It reminded her of the cross in Gast’s sleeping room and she wondered if a slave would be tied and beaten.

The sounds of the jeering crowd intensified and a line fractured between them; someone was being led out by guards. Ahead of the procession walked the king dragging a long black whip.

But it wasn’t a female the guards were ushering along by prodding their guns, it was a man. A big, broad handsome man with hair the color of oil that slicked down his back.

“Gast!” she cried out, a shrill noise that tore from her throat. What were they going to do to him? Why was he there?

Flattening her palms against the glass, she scanned the crowd, wishing she could see someone coming to his rescue. Was Walden there? Would he help? Or would that just see him ending up with the same fate? Whatever that fate may be.

Her medicator had said he hoped Gast was strong enough. Did that mean he was going to have to endure some physical hardship?

Of course it did.

And now that the king had stopped beside the cross, the whip coiled on the ground at his feet, she could guess what it was going to be.

The guards were efficient and determined and pushed Gast up to the cross.

He stood before it, chin tilted defiantly.

“Men of Roun,” the king boomed. “Today not only have you enjoyed the spectacle of a slave parade, you will now get to see why it is in your interest not to deny me or disrespect me, your king, the ruler of this great planet. I own all that is on it and that includes the slaves I have kindly welcomed here to live and breathe.”

He nodded at the guards who dragged Gast up to the cross. He looked huge next to them and Briella knew if they didn’t have guns he could have easily fought the few closest to him away, but he was too outnumbered and by the looks of it, all alone.

Apart from a token shake of his shoulders, Gast surrendered to his fate.

As the guards secured his ankles and wrists, the king flicked the whip. It snapped through the air then landed on the ground, spraying up a cloud of dust. “And now I must punish this Roun man, Gastion Ribald Newton of Reme, for his disrespectful attitude during the slave parade.”

There was a quiet round of applause. It wasn’t particularly enthused.

“And if he lives through it, he will be permitted to return to his dome with his slave.”

There was an apprehensive cheer. As though the crowd wanted to root for Gast to survive but were fearful of angering their king if they were too eager for the prisoner’s success.

Briella clasped her hands over her mouth. Survive? Surely the king wouldn’t kill him. His crime, if it could even be called that, certainly didn’t justify the death penalty.

She felt nauseous and her stomach gurgled. Her new easy breathing was difficult again, fear constricting her throat.

Again the king gave a practice flick of his whip. It unfurled, the tip striking the ground with a sickening crack.

Briella jerked and a shiver went down her spine.

The king stepped backward, eyed his target, then brought the brutal whip down with a hard slash against Gast’s back.

Gast jolted and yanked against the cross.

“No!” Briella cried, shaking her head. Already a deep welt could be seen, even from the distance of the turret.

The king struck again.

Gast bucked forward as if trying to escape the pain. But he couldn’t and another deep slash formed.

Tears poured from Briella’s eyes, trickling down her cheeks to her chin where they dripped to her bare chest.

The audience started up a slow clap. The slaves, mingled with the men, looked away, some burying their faces in their hands.

The king struck again and again, in time with the slow clapping that was rattling around the arena.

Briella hurt all over; it was as if she were being struck. She’d take the pain for her master if permitted. She hated seeing him beaten like this. Whipped as though he’d committed murder or treason.

If the Roun king dropped down dead, she’d cheer. She hated him, hated him more with each strike of his whip against her master.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the beating stopped. The king threw down the whip and walked up to Gast.

Gast’s head hung forward, his knees were bent and his shoulders stretched. Only his binds held him up; without them he’d be a crumpled wreck on the ground.

Briella dashed at her tears and wrapped her arms around her waist. Now what would the hideous king do?

She managed to focus on Gast’s back—red with blood and scarred from the whip. He needed poppy salve on it, the sooner the better.

If he was still alive, that was.

She couldn’t bear the thought of him being dead. Of the king whipping the life from him.

But he wasn’t moving, he was just hanging there.

The crowd fell silent.

The king curled his fingers into Gast’s hair and tugged his head up and back, his neck hyper-extending. He pressed his face close to Gast’s and appeared to listen for signs of life.

“The Roun man lives,” the king said, roughly releasing Gast’s head. “And has been taught a valuable lesson in respect.”

The crowd cheered, much louder this time, their relief palpable. Their king might be a sadist, but it was clear the Roun men had wanted Gast to walk away.

But he didn’t walk. Briella watched horrified as he was released, and as she’d suspected, he slithered to the ground, his strong body weak and exhausted. It took four guards to carry him off.

When he’d gone from sight, Briella hurled herself at the bed, sobbing. She sobbed until her chest ached. Until she thought she had no more tears. The bedding was sodden with her angst and distress.

Where had they taken him? Who would tend him? When would they be together again?

Her need for her master was a real physical pain. She yearned for him. It hurt to not be with him when she knew he needed comforting and treating. She could do that for him, provide what he needed. She knew in her heart that she could.

Briella had no idea how long she laid on the bed, distraught, confused, and fearful of the future. But eventually the door to the turret creaked open.

She opened her puffy eyes and raised her head, expecting to see the medicator once more, preparing to provide her with semen.

She blinked, rubbed her eyes. Was she seeing right?

Her heart rate picked up and she let out a sob.

Gast stood in the doorway. His shoulders were hunched and he clung to the frame. But he was upright.

“Master.” She rushed to him, her knees shaky and her stomach lurching. “I’ve been so scared for you. That whipping…” Another sob.

“Shh, slave. I survived. I’m okay.”

“But your back. Oh, Sir. The king is so cruel.”

“Shh.” He pressed his index finger to her lips. “Do not speak ill of the king or you will find yourself in the arena on the cross and I fear he would strike you until he was sure you were dead.”

“He wanted you dead.”

“No, he didn’t, not really. He might be cruel and narcissistic but a king who kills his own people does not remain in power for long. He is clever enough to know that by looking at the history of the universe.”

She touched his forearms, wanting to hold him but worried about hurting him.

“Are you okay, slave?”

“Yes, of course. It’s you I am worried about.”

“You can breathe?”

“Yes.” She tore her attention from his face. “I can.”

“How?” He cupped her cheek and urged her to look up at him.

“I was…”

“Go on.”

“Medicated, Sir.”

“By?” He frowned.

“A friend of yours. A Roun man, he was kind, Sir. Gentle. He asked me to relay to you that he’d been respectful.”

“And was he?”

She swallowed; the memory wasn’t a particularly pleasant one. “I only want you, Sir, but I have to breathe so I had little choice.” She paused. “I considered dying, allowing the blackness to steal over me. But the thought of…”

“What?” He held her face firmly as he stared down at her. “The thought of what?”

“The thought of never seeing you again, I couldn’t bear it. I need you, want you, you’ve made me feel complete, Sir.”

He smiled, just a little. “I’m glad that you took the medication from another man, but you should know that from now on, for the rest of our lives, it will only be me.”

“That’s what I long for, Sir. With you it’s special, the erotic pleasure we share, it’s as if our souls were meant to be.”

His smile widened but then he winced.

“Sir, you need treatment.” Worry for her master washed over her. “Can we go somewhere?”

“I only want to get back to the dome. There maybe you will apply poppy salve.”

“Yes, of course.” She hesitated. “But will the king just let you leave?”

He nodded. “Yes, I was whipped and survived. He’s good on his word for allowing me to return home.”

They descended the turret steps, Gast pausing every now and then to clutch the wall and grimace.

When they reached the base, he clipped her lead on. Tipping his chin, he then stepped out into the daylight.

A few Roun men were loitering in the arena.

But Briella barely noticed them, walking two steps behind her master; the sight of his poor tortured back made her knees weak and almost had her crying again. The skin was so damaged and torn, slashed with great lines from his shoulder tips to the rise of his buttocks. Blood, drying now, stained his flesh and his hair, damp at the ends, clung to him.

The sooner they got home the better. The whip marks needed to be cleaned and salve applied. She’d guess several applications would be required.

“Gast, my friend, do you need help?”

Gast stopped. So did Briella.

Walden stood before them, Nhah on a lead two steps behind him.

“I can walk,” Gast said, “thank you for asking.”

“And drive? Would you like me to take you and your slave back to your dome?”

“I appreciate the offer, you are a good man, but no, I will be able to get us there.”

Nhah smiled gently at Briella. Her expression itself was a hug. Empathy and friendship poured from her.

Briella blinked away a fresh wave of tears.

“I’m sorry the king was so harsh with you,” Walden said.

“Unfortunately he seems to enjoy tormenting me,” Gast said. “But I hope that now he’s taken his whip to my back, he’ll leave me and my slave to live in peace.”

“I’m sure he will. From what I hear he moves on quickly. His temper and attention span are short.”

Gast huffed.

“Go,” Walden said, glancing around. “I shouldn’t be holding you up. You need your slave to care for you. But when you’re well, please come and visit us. My slave and I would enjoy that.”

“We will, thank you.” Gast nodded and began a slow walk across the arena.

Nhah blew Briella a kiss.

Briella nodded, then fixed her attention on her master again. If he faltered, she’d catch him.

They stopped several times on the way back to the vehicle, and were the subject of much staring. Briella was careful to remain submissive, but as they made their way she knew she was more alert to the moment than her beaten master.

Once in the vehicle he placed her lead on her legs, then flicked the back of his seat downward, so it wasn’t touching his back.

“Sir, can I do anything for you?”

“Talk to me,” he said, charging up the engine. “I feel woozy.”

“I’m not surprised, Sir. Should we find you a healer of some sort, before we make this journey?”

“No. I wish only to be in my own dome, on my own bed, with you.” He gave her a weak smile. “We will be there soon.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He maneuvered onto the main freeway out of the city. Briella kept quiet, sensing he was concentrating, but once their way became a straight road, she decided to spark up a conversation.

“Sir, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, slave.”

“Why did the king take Skylar?”

Gast gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “Because he could.”

“But why her? Why your slave and not one of the other masters’?”

“It was nothing to do with me, not back then.”

“What do you mean?”

“At the parade, he took a liking to her. She was incredibly beautiful, her hair the color of the second sun, her skin white, and her eyes matched the green of a lightning bolt.”

“Oh, I see.” She beat down a wave of jealousy for this beautiful Zoid woman who’d clearly stolen her master’s heart.

“You’re beautiful too,” he said, as if sensing the tight-fisted emotion that had coiled in her guts. “Your hair matches the moon on a sunless day, and your eyes are the same pale gray of raindrops. And your body,” he glanced at her, “is a pleasure to own.”

“I’m glad you think so, Sir.”

“I do, very much, so don’t forget it.” He squeezed her leg, then returned his grip to the steering wheel.

“Can you tell me what happened, Sir? After the king took a liking to Skylar?”

“He declared that she was to join his harem in the palace. That he would take on responsibility for her medication. This angered me more than if she was simply going to another master, because in the harem, the king uses many Roun men to medicate. Not all are considerate of female pleasure. They feel that the gift of their semen is enough and can be rough and cruel.”

“We were told that was the case, at training camp, Sir.”

“But it’s unfair, don’t you agree, that just one person gets pleasure?”

“But females get the gift of breath.”

“This is where I differ from many Roun men. I believe every species has a basic right to be able to breathe on the planet they’re on. It should not be their only pleasure in life, the only goal.”

“You’re very kind, Sir.”

“I’m glad you think so.” He glanced at her. “I would not enjoy medicating a woman who did not want me inside her for erotic pleasure as well as semen.”

Briella was quiet for a moment, thinking of how much pleasure her master gave her, then, “Is Skylar still in the king’s harem?”

“No.” He shook his head. “From what I heard he bored of her quickly.”

“Why?”

“I’d trained her well, she needed little or no punishment, she was a gifted slave. Devout, humble, and obedient. The king as you know likes to dish out pain, hence all the rules his enforcers have to check up on.”

“So what happened to her?” Briella hardly dared ask what happened to slaves when the Roun king tired of them.

“She was passed to a master in the northern kingdom. From what I hear she is content and well medicated and…”

“And what, Sir?”

“There was news that she was preparing to give birth, her belly swollen with child.”

“Oh, I see.” She paused. “And that pleases you?”

“I’m pleased that she is from all accounts happy and starting a family with her new master. It is a healthy social system for the planet, children in the community again and not brought up in institutions.”

“The way you were.”

He nodded. “Yes. But I knew no different so do not feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t feel sorry for you, Sir.”

“You don’t?” He glanced at her.

“No, I just wish you’d had the love of parents, the way I did.”

“That must be a truly special thing.”

“It was. Very.” She glanced out of the window at the vast orange plains and the now familiar mountains rising in the distance. She missed her parents very much. Their existence was being snuffed away on Zoid, but one thing that would always be in their legacy was their gift of how to raise children.

Chapter Twenty

Gast finally pulled up in the vehicle storage area beneath the dome. The suns were sinking in the sky and Briella’s chest was becoming tight.

But she didn’t want to think of herself. Her master was her priority. She needed to tend to him, make him comfortable.

He didn’t bother to hold her lead as they walked up the steps. His head was bowed as though exhausted and his feet dragged up to the front door.

“Sir, why don’t you lie down and I will prepare what we need,” she said.

“Thank you, slave.”

He shuffled into the sleeping area then fell flat on his stomach, face buried in a pillow and his boots hanging off the end of the bed.

Briella wasted no time in getting organized. She filled a bowl with warm water, hunted out the softest cloth, then scooped up the poppy salve. It felt good to finally be able to do something to help her master.

She set the bowl on the table by the bed, soaked a cloth, then gently moved his hair to one side.

His eyes were closed, his shoulders shifting slowly, as though he was spent and asleep.

If she could have left him, she would. But this had to be done. Not least because small dots of orange grit sat in his wounds.

With small swipes, as light as a feather, she began to clean his cuts. Some were deeper than others, but all were wicked and had broken his skin their entire length.

A few times he murmured a complaint, or shifted under her touch, but mostly he just laid still and quiet, accepting his treatment.

She wiped away a tear. The king was hateful to inflict such cruelty upon a good man. She hoped that when his turn to pass power on came, a man with more honor would take up leadership of Roun.

Eventually the wounds were clean, each shocking stripe free from dust or contamination.

She began to delicately swipe poppy salve onto each one, starting at the top near his neck and working her way downward. She had to get another tube of salve, such was the extent of his injuries, but finally she was finished.

As she stood and looked at her work, she was pleased to see that already, the lashes by his nape, where she’d first applied the balm, were looking less red.

She tidied away the cloths and balm, then went outside to tip the water onto her seeds.

Stooping low, and being careful not to disturb the soil as she poured, she paused. In the very center of her trough, though the netting, she could see a small green-tipped stalk. It had shifted some of the soil to break through and was pointing at the sky.

She smiled in wonder. It had worked, her flowers were growing, the soil and the air compatible. Soon the others would burst free, then they’d grow tall and strong, produce leaves, petals, seeds.

Gently she spread the rest of the water. How pleased Gast would be, she was sure of it. They’d likely have to keep it a secret, allow the birds to spread the seeds over the planet—which she knew Gast would be happy about—but they’d have flowers on Roun. Botany had arrived, even if only one species.

After wandering back into the dome, she stood under the shower fall. She washed away the paint that had adorned her body but was now smudged and indecipherable. Once dry and dressed in her usual short skirt, she went into the eating room. It was dark outside now, as the suns had slipped behind the mountains. Her chest was tighter still, but she didn’t want to disturb her sleeping master. Medicating her would be the last thing on his mind. He needed to rest and recover.

She sipped sweet water as she heated his food. When it was ready, she took it into the dark sleeping area on a tray. The moon lit her way as she flicked on the lamp and set his food down. She hoped the rasping wheeze in her chest wouldn’t disturb him until he was ready to stir.

“Slave, lie with me.”

“You’re awake?”

“Please do as I ask.”

“Yes, Sir.” Quickly, she slipped onto the bed next to him. He was hot, heat radiated from him, and the scent of the poppy balm filled her nostrils. “How are you feeling?”

“Probably better than you, I can hear your chest whistling.”

“I’m okay. Do not worry about me.”

“And what kind of master would I be if I didn’t worry?”

“You’re the perfect master.” She stroked his hair, shifting it from his cheek. “And I…”

“You what, slave?”

Could she say it? Should she say it? The words were there on her tongue. They filled her heart, her every waking thought and dream.

“What do you need to say, slave? I order you to tell me.” He narrowed his eyes and stared straight at her.

“I love you, Sir.”

His eyebrows drew together a little.

She wondered if she’d overstepped the line and said something she shouldn’t have.

He lifted and set his mouth on hers, stroking his tongue in and sweeping it around.

She sighed and absorbed his flavor. She knew by his kiss that she hadn’t angered him.

He pulled back and propped himself onto his elbow. “I love you, too.”

“You do?” She cupped his cheek. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I’ve never felt this way before. You’re my slave and I cherish you with everything that I am. I love you with every beat of my heart and feel humbled that you’ve chosen to submit to me and serve me.”

“I will submit to and serve you for the rest of my life.” She coughed, a pathetic little sound that racked her ribs.

“Which,” he frowned, “won’t be a long life if I don’t medicate you soon.”

“But… your wounds?”

“They’re healing.” He shifted over her, nudging her legs apart with his. “I’m sure with a few more applications of balm and your gentle care, I’ll soon be as good as new.”

“I hope so.” She gripped his biceps and stared up at him.

His hair hung down as he nudged his cock at her entrance.

“Master,” she gasped as he began to stretch her wide. “Oh, yes, please…”

He bit on his bottom lip, as though exerting great concentration, and eased in some more, riding his body over her clit.

She hooked her legs behind his, adoring watching his expression as he claimed her pussy. “The suns and the moons meant for us to be together,” she said, holding his face.

“Yes, Briella, my beautiful slave, they did.” He pushed to full depth, his sac pressing up against her.

She groaned as pleasure rolled over her. When Gast was inside her so deep, it was as if the rest of the universe had faded away. There was only them, they were all that existed.

He began to rock, gently butting up against her.

Instantly her clitoris reacted to the stimulation. She reveled in it, knowing that it would only grow and get better, that soon bliss would circulate her body the same way air did.

His weight was heavy on her but not too much so, and he filled her vision. His gaze was intense as he concentrated on medicating her.

“It’s so good, Sir,” she gasped.

“I like to see you,” he said, “like this, beneath me, open for me, taking me.”

“I’m yours to take, Sir.”

He dipped his head and kissed her, rolling his hips a little and upping the pressure on her clitoris.

“Oh…oh, Master, my erotic pleasure is here…” she said against his mouth, then held her breath. The moment of release was intense. Then everything crashed down, her pussy spasmed, and her clitoris pulsed. She battled to keep her eyes open, staring up at him.

He groaned long and loud then shunted into her hard, a deep thrust that had her crying out in bliss. She was sure he could see right into his soul as he expelled his semen. And in his soul she saw love and honor and a bright and brilliant future.

More release spilled into her. Air free-flowed into her lungs.

He stilled and his eyelids fluttered shut. “Oh, yes…”

“Yes,” she panted. “Yes, Sir, thank you.”

He smiled then withdrew and carefully lay down on his front next to her.

She was breathing fast, and stared up at the curved ceiling. It was familiar now, home; she didn’t miss Zoid or her dirty, polluted brick built shack there. This was where she belonged, at her master’s side in his dome. She hoped the king would never bother them again, that their love for each other would grow and he’d always be pleased with her.

She’d work hard to avoid punishment but if she did step out of line, she’d take her spankings stoically. She’d try to preempt his needs, be a good slave in public, and conform. This relationship with Gast and building their life together was all that was important now.

“What are you thinking, slave?” He slipped his hand over her breast and tweaked her nipple.

She turned her head to face him, unaware that he’d been watching her.

“About you… us.”

“And where did those thoughts lead you?” He reached for her other nipple, rolling it between thumb and forefinger.

She smiled. “I was hoping that we’d have a long and happy future. That I’d be able to please you with my submission.”

“I don’t doubt for a minute that will be the case.” He smiled, his eyes half closed; he was clearly tired and in need of sleep. She decided not to mention his meal; he’d ask for it if he was hungry.

He slipped his hand lower, sliding his palm over her belly. He spread out his fingers, rubbing gently.

Suddenly his eyes widened. He didn’t look so sleepy anymore. He sat, supporting himself on one arm, his hand still on her abdomen. “Slave!”

“What, Sir? What is it?” Alarm went through her. What had happened to make him change from sleepy to full alert so rapidly?

“Your belly… it’s…” He looked down at it.

“What?” She studied his hand, resting on her stomach.

“It’s swollen.”

“Is it?” She pressed her hand over his.

“Yes, I know your body well and here it’s rounder than it has been.”

“So you think…?” She hardly dared hope. It was the ultimate dream.

“That you’re with a baby, our baby.” He grinned suddenly. “Yes, I think you are.”

“But it’s so fast… I mean…”

“It’s the way of Roun men and Zoid women; it happens, this bump, within weeks.”

Briella was silent as thoughts tumbled through her mind. Had one of the worst days she’d ever endured really ended as one of the best? A master who loved her and his baby in her belly?

He swept his lips over hers, smiling as he did so. “This makes me so happy.”

“It does?”

“Yes, of course.” His smile faltered. “Doesn’t it you?”

“Yes, yes.” She cupped his cheeks. “Happier than I could have ever believed possible.” She kissed him, letting her master know with her mouth how important he was to her. Nothing else on any planet in any universe compared to him. And now they’d created a baby who would be one of the pioneering children of Roun.

Their union as master and slave really was meant to be.

Epilogue

Five years later

Briella adjusted the strap on Siren’s bag, which was fastened over her shoulder. “Have you got everything you need?”

“Yes, Mother,” Siren replied, a note of exasperation in her voice.

“I’m sorry, but if you haven’t it’s too far to come back or for your father to bring to you. And last week you didn’t take your history of the universe book.”

“I know, but I’ve double-checked, Mother, and I have everything I need for the next four days.”

“Good girl.” Briella smiled. “Here, some sugared sunflower seeds for you to eat on the way.” She passed over a small bag of the candies she’d taken to making for Siren. They were her favorite.

“Thanks,” Siren grinned and as she did so, there was a loud honk from the parking area below their dome.

“The transportation vehicle is here. Time to go, little one,” Gast said, stepping out from his work area to the front doorway.

“Goodbye, Father, see you at school end.” Siren smiled at Gast, her cheeks balling the way his did.

“You will.” He stooped low and pressed a kiss to the top of Siren’s head.

His eyes were filled with love. Briella knew his daughter meant the universe to him. He’d do anything for her. Kill anyone who even attempted to hurt her. Siren was the perfect child they’d created and was growing fast to become one of Roun’s first indigenous women for many centuries.

She’d go down in history for making their planet one of a double-gendered species. And whatever she did with her life would be documented and studied for years to come.

Which was why, like all the new children, she went to an education facility in Ryl four days a week to fill her brain with scholarly learning. Briella was pleased that Siren was getting such amazing opportunities, becoming knowledgeable about things Briella had never even heard of. But for those four days each week, she missed her daughter terribly.

When she was home, the sound of her laughter filled the dome as did her constant chatter. Gast had built a new sleeping room, smaller than theirs, and painted it the color of the sunflower petals. Siren adored it and whenever they had to go into Ryl as a family she’d always find a new string of beads or picture for her wall.

They went to Ryl more often now. The king had been struck with a debilitating illness that confined him to his bed and rumor had it he was no longer able to medicate women. He’d become a recluse and as his public sightings and dabbling in Roun life had lessened, the citizens’ attitudes had become lighter, and they smiled more. His iron fist way of ruling had ceased to grip the planet and that was a relief to everyone.

Briella bent and dragged Siren into a final hug. “Be good. Do what the teachers tell you and learn well.”

“I will, Mother. We’re studying pollution this week. I want to know all about it and maybe find a way to save my grandparents and their planet Zoid.”

“If there’s a way, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Gast said, peeling Briella’s arms from around her daughter. “That’s enough now, slave. Siren has to go.”

“Yes, Sir.” Briella released Siren and stood. Her arms felt empty already, as though she didn’t know what to do with them.

Siren grinned up at her parents, then turned and skipped down the steps, her bag bobbing on her back.

Briella couldn’t contain the sob that broke free from her chest and caught in her throat.

“Oh, slave,” Gast said, exasperation lacing his tone. “Every time we must have these tears and I don’t know why.”

“I’m sorry, Sir, I just miss her.”

“So do I, but I understand the need for her to be educated and to be around the other children of Roun. It’s not good for her to grow up isolated in the mountains with us.”

“But she’s happy here.”

“Of course she’s happy at home with her parents. Would we have it any other way?”

“No, Sir.”

Gast rested his arm around Briella’s shoulder and pulled her close. “She has to go to school. It is the law and it is definitely one I agree with.”

The weight of his arm was comforting, as was the brush of his skin against hers. She knew he was right, but it still tugged her heart to say goodbye.

Siren climbed into the vehicle, throwing a final wave their way.

Briella waved back as a tear slid down her cheek. She couldn’t help it, it was how she felt. Siren was so beloved, so precious. Briella would love her parents, brother, and cousins to meet her.

But that would never happen.

As dust billowed up from the school vehicle and it took to the road to Ryl, Gast turned her to face him. He cupped her cheeks and looked down at her tearstained face. “This is no good. You need to have more control.”

“I know, Sir. I’ll try harder next time.”

He tipped his head. “Perhaps I should spank you so you remember to keep these emotions in check next week and to give you something to take your mind off Siren’s leaving now.”

“If that is what you wish, Sir?”

“It is not what I wish; it is what would help keep your emotions in check.”

She thought about it. Spankings were always helpful when she needed to release stress and right now she felt like a bubbling cauldron of stress. She nodded. “Yes. It would help.” Her chest was also a little tight; soon she would need to be medicated. Gast knew this of course, and she enjoyed it when he timed a spanking with medication.

“Good girl.” He smiled gently.

“Shall I wait for you in the sleeping area as usual?”

He shook his head. “That won’t be necessary. Siren isn’t here now; I can medicate you anywhere in the dome I wish.” He twitched his eyebrows and bit his bottom lip as though holding back a big grin. “No little eyes to see things they shouldn’t.”

“Yes, Sir.” A bubble of excitement burst in her belly. “Where would you like me?”

“In my workshop.”

“In your workshop? Outdoors?”

“Yes.” He released her and stepped back. “I’ve invented a new device that I wish to try out. It’s heavy and can stay outdoors.”

Her heart fluttered, not just at the thought of being medicated out in the open air. Gast’s capacity for inventing seemed to know no bounds. He was talented, industrious, and imaginative. He also seemed to have their erotic pleasure first and foremost in his mind when it came to creating new delights.

He reached for her hand and steered her from the front door through the low gate to his walled workshop. It was to the right of the dome; behind it the mountain towered upward, the bobbing sunflower heads the only dots of color on the orange-hued rock, and stretching into the distance, the plains of northern Roun. Her master’s view when he worked was spectacular and wild and it was easy to see anyone approaching them through the basin. In the sky, silhouetted by the three suns, birds circled, and a single bruised-purple cloud sat near the diamond-white moon.

He drew to a halt next to a structure draped in a leather tarpaulin and stood behind her.

“I know it’s your arms that ache the most for Siren when she leaves,” he said quietly, his breaths hot by her ear. “So I’m going to help you out with that.”

“Yes, Sir.” She fluttered her eyes closed as he smoothed his hands from her shoulders, down her arms to her wrists. He pressed them together in the small of her back.

He began to wind rope around her arms, starting just above her elbow and strapping her tight right to her palms. She was used to this; Gast would often trap her hands behind her back, or above her head and attached to the bedpost. He seemed to enjoy her being incapacitated and at his mercy, which suited her just fine.

“Wriggle your fingers, slave,” he instructed.

She did as he’d asked.

“Any pains in your fingers, tell me instantly.”

“Of course, Master.”

He stepped in front of her, brushing his lips over hers. “Open your eyes. I think we will both enjoy this new invention.”

She looked up at his handsome face. A flash of excitement crossed his eyes.

“I’m certain that will be the case,” she said. A tremor had started up in her belly and her pussy was dampening.

He took hold of the leather tarpaulin and, with a flick of his wrist, tugged it away, creating a plume of dust.

Beneath it was a bench that stood on four legs. It was at waist height to Briella, and had a padded leather surface. From it hung several straps with buckles. Straps also lined the legs closest to her.

“What is it, Sir?” she asked.

“I think it will be easier to show you rather than explain.” He maneuvered her to the end of it, then pressed her shoulders, urging her to rest her body down on the padded section.

It was cool on her naked breasts but wonderfully soft.

“You will not need this,” he said, tugging at her skirt and removing it.

“No, Sir.” She turned her head to the left, so she could see the view, and rested her cheek flat.

“And your legs, wider.”

“Yes, Sir.” She did as he’d asked and her toes touched the base of the bench’s legs.

“I do not wish you to fall off and hurt yourself,” he said. “So I’m fastening you down.”

“Yes Sir.” Her breath hitched as a strong strap fastened around her upper torso. It tightened, pinning her to the bench. She really wasn’t going to be able to move, or lift up.

He secured three more straps, the last one sitting at the base of her back. Her ass, as she’d suspected, would remain free from anything. He’d likely want easy access to that.

As always, with something new in their medication routine, Briella had a flutter of nerves. Gast would never hurt her in a bad way, but still… he was a big Roun man and had impressive muscles. She was small and delicate and when he got carried away, at the height of the erotic pleasure, she sometimes wondered how much control he had.

“And your legs,” he said, stooping and sliding his hands down her left one. “They will also be attached to the spanking bench. I wish you to be firmly in place.”

Spanking bench?

Of course it was. She should have guessed.

A small whimper caught in her mouth as he proceeded to secure four straps to each leg, completely harnessing her to the bench. And with her arms pinned together and further tied down by the straps over her torso, she could go nowhere.

Not that she wanted to.

The warm breeze slipping down the mountainside slid over her ass cheeks and tickled through her hair.

Gast moved in front of her to his workbench.

She wondered when he’d get started. The suns were blazing down on her Zoid skin, so she knew he wouldn’t leave her for hours, the way he sometimes did on the cross indoors, but still, he had a decent length of time to play with before she burned to any degree.

“I’ve been busy, slave,” he said, coming into her line of vision again. “And created this.”

He held out a flat wooden disk, about the size of one of their plates. He’d attached a loop of leather to it and slipped his hand through the loop. It turned his palm into a solid circle of wood.

“It’s lovely, Sir.” What was it?

“It’s to mark your buttocks. Look, I have engraved my initials on it, so when I smack you, the blood will not rush to the skin there and you’ll bear my name.”

“That’s very clever, Sir.” She meant that, she really did. But this invention looked very efficient at providing a solid, flat base of contact to her rear, and in turn serious pain. Already her skin tingled. The first few strikes of a spanking always had her bemoaning her wanting one, but when Gast got going, layering up the strikes, she soon became pleasantly giddy.

“You may cry out,” he said, gesturing to the empty valley. “There’s no one to disturb.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Sliding his hand over her, as though checking the straps, he moved from her view. His touch extended down her buttocks, each one in turn.

She adored his hands on her, and relaxed into the caress.

“Get ready, slave.”

“Yes, Sir… argh!”

A spank had landed, hard and fast, firm male power behind the whack.

She panted, her shoulders heaving as she drew in air. The wooden disk had seared against her skin; the pain was growing, getting harsher and stronger, not abating.

She groaned and jerked against the bench but couldn’t move more than a fraction.

“You’re doing so well,” he said, gathering up her hair and tugging.

She stretched her neck to reduce the pain in her scalp and stared straight ahead.

“Try and relax,” he said. “It will make it better for you if you do, both physically and emotionally.”

“Yes, Sir.” Relax? How could she when she knew what was coming?

Another smack.

“Argh!” she yelped. The other buttock was now blistering hot with pain rushing over it.

“Ah, yes, you’re blooming nicely. I can see the letters GRN growing in the center.” He kept hold of her hair. “I wish you could see it.”

She didn’t answer, she was concentrating on breathing. Already she was due medication and now, with the sting of those strikes, she was becoming tight-chested.

“Now that I’ve admired your branding,” he said. “I will deliver the real spanking. You will try harder to control your emotions when our daughter leaves for education each week.”

“Yes, Sir. I understand, I’m sorry, Sir.”

He didn’t reply; instead he set up a sure and swift pace of spanking her with the wooden disk.

She bucked and cried out. But harnessed to the bench and with her hair in his grip, she was well and truly trapped.

“Ah, yes, yes…” he said, excitement lacing his tone. “That’s it, what a wonderful color you’re going, slave.”

She didn’t doubt it. The sharp nips in her ass were creating flashes of red in her vision. Her pulse thudded, her pussy contracted. She was sure a drip of moisture was trickling down her inner thigh.

Being spanked by her master gave her a shameful pleasure, one she didn’t completely understand and he’d told her not to concern herself with it, only to go with the flow and let the erotic pleasure take her when it arrived.

He slapped and slapped the wood against her. She felt sure each strike would be the last but he kept on going. His energy seemed limitless.

The mountains had blurred, her eyes so full of tears. She no longer had the energy to cry out or fight her binds. She’d folded in on herself, the pain in her buttocks and the need in her pussy all that existed. Her body slumped and she was thankful for the straps securing her to the bench.

“There, it is all over,” he said, finally releasing her hair and ceasing the spanking.

She rested her damp cheek on the leather as her hair fell over her shoulder. Her ass was on fire as though burning embers coated her skin.

He was stroking over it, murmuring soothing noises. His hands were so cool compared to the heat of her flesh and she appreciated his touch.

“I’ll medicate you soon, slave,” he said, slipping his fingertips over her anus. “But first this.” He pushed a finger into her.

She groaned. Just when she’d reached sensation overload he added something else to the moment.

“That’s it, take me,” he said, adding another finger and stretching her hole.

She’d always take him, no matter what he gave her. He was her master and having him in her body was what she longed for.

He withdrew. Her anus clamped shut.

“Oh, no,” he said with a chuckle. “There’s more.”

The tip of the plugging device he’d made touched her tight bud. She knew it was the plug because of its cool, pointed shape and the scent of the lubrication he always used with it.

“Oh, Sir…” she managed, concentrating on a collection of sunflower heads that had been left out for the birds on the work area floor. The centers had been pecked away. “Oh…”

The device slipped higher, extending her ring.

He didn’t go fast but it wasn’t a slow ride either. He knew she could take it, had on many occasions, so he inserted it with a confident determination.

Briella was proud that he knew her so well and that she could accept his plug into her body. She wondered if he’d deliver her medication into her ass later; he often did if she’d been plugged for the afternoon.

“That’s it, nearly there,” he said.

She curled her toes into the dusty ground. The last bit of the plug was the widest and stretched her to the point she thought she could take no more.

Finally it popped in, leaving only the safety bar on the outside.

She sighed and clenched and unclenched her fists. She hoped her master was pleased with her.

“Oh, slave. You look beautiful. I’m so pleased with how you fit on this spanking bench. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

She didn’t answer, but instead smiled, her cheek bunching on the leather. It filled her heart with joy when Gast spoke like that—desire and awe and love in his voice.

“And your pussy,” he said. “So moist for me. Suns above, it’s dripping sweet nectar.” He fluttered his fingers over her folds of skin, bringing them to rest at her entrance. “One more thing,” he said. “To add to your erotic pleasure.”

There was a small mechanical click, then something, a small hard pad, rose from the end of the bench, applying pressure to the area beneath her clitoris.

“Can you feel it?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir.”

“I think you’ll find it most pleasing to rub your clitoris against as I medicate your pussy.”

Oh, how right he was. Her clitoris was already tingling and swollen. She wanted to massage it on the hard pad, build up the pressure that was already growing there to release point.

“How are your hands?” he asked.

She gave a test grind against the new pad, working it against her clitoris. “Mmm…” It felt so good. Just the right rigidity.

“Slave.” He gave her ass a swift slap. “Answer me.”

She jerked. “Ah, yes, it’s good. My fingers, they’re fine.”

“Pay attention to my words, slave.”

“Yes, Sir.”

His cock was at her entrance. Heat from his legs radiated onto hers.

Excitement rocketed through her. He was going to medicate her outside, on his new spanking bench. Not only that, her ass was full of his plug. She knew this would make her pussy tighter, much tighter and only just able to cope with his thick cock.

“So hot and wet.” He eased into her pussy, stretching her wide. “So tight,” he said, reaching forward and taking hold of her hair again. He bunched it into a rough ponytail and tugged.

She groaned as she was forced to look straight ahead at the valley beyond. Her neck stretched, her back arched, she took him deep into her pussy.

His body hair abraded her sore ass and she knew he’d reached full depth. He stayed there, allowing her to breathe through the thick and solid invasion in her pussy. With the plug he seemed even bigger than usual, as if his cock had grown in size. It took some doing to work with the dense filling rather than fight against it.

But after a few breaths she did. And as soon as she went with it, the erotic pleasure cried out for attention.

She tensed her internal muscles, hugging him.

“Oh, slave… when you do that…” He pulled out, pushed back in.

A long wail of bliss tore from her. As he’d pushed back in, her clitoris had rubbed against the pad. Her erotic pleasure was so close. So tempting.

She trembled from her toes to the top of her spine, sweat popped on her back, she didn’t even remember to blink.

He set up a fast, urgent rhythm, as though the binding and spanking and plugging had made him impatient for his release of semen.

“Master. Master. Master.” Her words were punctuated by the thrusts of his hips, the burying of his cock. “Master… it’s here.”

The erotic pleasure claimed her. Bliss shot from her clitoris. Her pussy spasmed and her ass clenched the plug. Her skin prickled, starting in her buttocks and spreading outward.

“Ah, slave. Your medication. Soak it up.”

She didn’t need telling. Her body did that for her. And as he spurted into her, his semen washing over her insides, she took a deep, satisfying breath to the base of her lungs.

Then she wailed, a high-pitched burst of pleasure that rose up to the suns and the moon. She imagined it echoing around the valley, and swirling with the calls of the birds.

On and on he pounded into her, releasing more potent semen. Her clitoris continued to spin out pleasure to the rest of her body. She clenched her fists and bucked back for more.

Gast was panting hard as he released her hair. She allowed her head to twist to the side, her cheek landing hard on the bench. He slowed, the soft noises of his cock in her pussy all she concentrated on.

“This bench,” he said breathlessly, “is good at its job. What do you think, Briella, my beautiful slave?”

“Yes… it is…” She couldn’t remember when medication time had been so extreme or so much fun. She felt wrung out, exhausted, used up. But with that an intense satisfaction washed down on her the way the suns’ rays were. Her emotions were back under control. He knew her so well, her master, what she needed even before she did.

Gast withdrew, sliding his hands over her smarting buttocks as he did so.

“You’ll stay here for a while,” he said, continuing to caress her. “But I will not let you burn.”

“I know, Sir.”

“I want you to relax on the bench. Think only about how it’s holding you, the way I can also hold you, and that you’re mine to spank and medicate and give erotic pleasure to forevermore.”

“Yes, Sir. Forevermore. I know that. I will think of only that.”

He stepped to the side and lowered his face to hers. “I know you understand that you’re mine, but it doesn’t hurt to let that knowledge fill your brain over and above all else.” He swept his lips over hers. “And on top of that.” He paused. “It’s good for you to remain in this position after I medicate your pussy. It gives us more chance of something we both want.”

“Yes, Sir,” Briella sighed, hoping for a longer kiss, but that didn’t happen.

Gast was gone and judging by the sounds behind her, at his workbench again.

She could have turned to look at him, but was too fatigued. Besides he’d given her a task to perform as she lay on the bench.

So, studying the sunflower heads again, she thought about her master and his kindness and how lucky she was to have him. Also that he wanted another child with her. He’d heard a rumor that staying still and supine after medication made it more likely that her belly would swell.

And he was right, that was something they both wanted to happen.

A brave bird landed near the sunflower head farthest from her. It flicked its head left and right as if assessing danger in the work area.

Briella watched it. She was no danger to the creature. She couldn’t move an inch. And Gast had become quiet behind her—she wondered if he’d gone for a drink of water.

The bird hopped forward and pecked at the flower head. It took a seed and quickly swallowed it, its beady gaze darting over Briella.

She smiled, contentment washing through her. Her arrival on Roun had been a momentous event not just for her, but also for her host planet. On top of falling in love with the most honorable, caring master in all of the universe, she’d also spread flowers to this land that was devoid of petals and seeds.

It had taken no effort on her behalf for flowers to spread all over the north. The birds had done that for her, though the king had sent out special leaflets at the time claiming it to be him who’d created the sunflowers.

Briella and Gast had smiled at that. It was a secret they’d have to hold close for all of time.

Creating Siren, the first newborn in the mountains had been historic for Roun and life-affirming for Briella. And now, in her master’s dome, hoping for another newborn, and with a future full of love and respect and pleasure to look forward to, Briella truly believed she was the most fortunate woman to have ever left Zoid.

The End

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More Stormy Night Books by Lily Harlem

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Lily Harlem Links

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Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

More Stormy Night Books by Lily Harlem

Lily Harlem Links