Claimed by the Zandian Page 4

  “No.” Tarek’s tone is regretful. “We have no way to take away bad memories, I’m afraid.”

  I consider the beings for a moment. Do I trust them to medicate Enya? I do feel much better after the care they gave me. “All right, yes. Go ahead and give her something.”

  “Would you like a sedative?” The tech raises his brow at me, and I start to giggle again.

  “Sweet Mother Earth, what kind attention and service I’m getting. May I also have a cloak of the finest spider silk as well, and ox-leather boots, if you’re asking? You’re like a personal galaxy shopper.”

  I only know about such beings because Master had a shopper on staff who obtained anything he wanted.

  The med tech looks confused. But Tarek lets out a guffaw of laughter that warms my soul. “Veck, you’re feisty.” He turns. “The best we can do is a washtube and a camo flight suit.”

  He turns his sightless gaze on me as if he’s actually assessing. “Mirelle is about your size, and we have some built for humans.”

  “How can you…” I trail off. I swear he’s looking at my breasts. Oh, stars, did my nipples just get hard?

  He turns away, his voice colder. “I have sensors embedded in my brain that interpret heat and auditory information and build a shape map in my mind. I’ve been told it’s a lot like vision.”

  His demeanor is totally different now, as if he’s a stranger. Wow. I guess I shouldn’t ask too much about his disability. Ability. Both.

  “I’m sorry.” I step back.

  “Don’t be. I’m needed on the flight deck.” He strides away, leaving me there, chafing to lessen the offense I gave to my new… captor? Master? Advocate? I still don’t know what kind of situation we’re in here.

  A soft sound behind me makes me whirl, but it’s just Enya, getting comfortable with a soft purple blanket. “Going to sleep, now, Zina,” she mutters. “Sit with me?”

  I hurry over and stroke her hair, murmuring soothing things. She smiles at me, and then her gorgeous green eyes flicker closed and she falls into a series of even breaths that sound like total relaxation.

  The med tech nods at her. “She’ll sleep for at least half a planet rotation, and we’ll administer fluids through her pack to keep her hydrated. Here are the items that Tarek mentioned.”

  He points to a pile of gear. “The washtube is that enclosure, so if you are comfortable doing it unassisted…”

  I hesitate. “She’s safe here?” I look at Enya.

  “Yes.”

  “I just…” I bite my lip, assessing the situation.

  “On my honor. On Zandian honor. She is safe with us.” His eyes drill into mine.

  “All right. Thank you.” I don’t want to be duped. Don’t want to be naive. But somehow, I think I can trust the Zandians. If they wanted to do something to us, they could have already done it. Besides, I can’t do anything for Enya now but let her rest.

  I pick up the stuff and head into the cubby. “Thank you.”

  A few minutes later, refreshed and dressed in the camo pants and jacket—it’s a bit tight, actually, and strains over my generous breasts, I feel new. Reborn. Even the usual pain in my leg is lighter. The trousers hide the ugly scars and slight twist of the bone, the shift of the kneecap, the ragged burned flesh on the calf, are hidden from view. Only my limp betrays my history.

  Tarek

  “Distance update?” Drayk stands at my shoulder, viewing the screens.

  “One planet rotation to Zandian airspace at light speed. No anticipated issues. The Crellix asteroid cluster is in waning phase, and I can guide us through it without a problem.” I point to the belt on my holo monitor, my mind-link showing me where to tap so he can see it with his eyes. “We’ll stay on auto for the next few hours, and I only need to handle it if we run into an issue.”

  “Good.” He sits down in his padded nav chair and swivels to face me. “How are the humans?”

  “Jass has the younger one sedated for healing, as Dr. Daneth suggested via holo. Luckily her nursemaid, Zina, agreed.”

  “Easier that way.” He nods. “But Zina didn’t wish to rest?”

  I like the way her name sounds on my tongue. Zina. “Apparently not.” I resist the urge to turn my head toward the corridor that heads to the med pod. “Perhaps we can question her and learn more about Enya’s history. It will be helpful to Dr. Daneth once she arrives, and of course to her mother.”

  I hold my breath. The truth is that although I believe what I just said, I want merely to spend time in Zina’s presence. Sense her. Smell her. Touch her.

  “We can set up a holo conference with Dr. Daneth.”

  “Set it up.”

  I nod to a crew member to bring her, and when she arrives, my whole body tingles at her proximity. “Greetings.” I raise my hand, but stop short of touching her. I point her to a chair beside me and the captain.

  “Zina, we’d like to ask you some questions.” The captain’s voice is strong, and I sense Zina shrink back in her chair, as if she’s afraid.

  “I’m not hiding anything…” she begins, her voice high and tight. I smell her sweat.

  “She’s scared,” I interrupt, standing and placing my body between hers and the captain’s. I don’t know why the veck, but I’m on my feet before I realize it. “Keep your voice neutral.”

  I track him crossing his arms.

  “—Captain,” I add, bowing my head. On this ship, he’s my superior. “A suggestion to put our human at ease.” I put up my hands. I don’t know why I feel the need to protect her. “As we know, they prefer low tones and soft voices when being asked questions.”

  He tilts his head, although I know he’s going to follow up with me later. “Agreed. Zina, we are not going to harm you. We need to learn about you and Enya. This,” he gestures to the holo, “is one of our respected Zandians back on planet. He will listen and ask questions as well.”

  She exhales. “Okay.” Her voice is still a bit shaky, but the tone of terror is gone. “What do you want to know?”

  “How many solar cycles is the young you care for?”

  “Nine.”

  “Where did she live? What was her daily life like?”

  She tenses. “Why the interest in Enya?”

  “We are interested in you both,” the captain says smoothly. But the young will be more difficult to care for. We want to understand what she requires.”

  Zina still appears wary.

  “Has the child been assaulted in any way? Injured?”

  “We all have been assaulted,” she says stiffly. “She bears no permanent injury.” I sense her tension rising. She directs her focus to Dr. Daneth. “Are you inquiring whether she’s a virgin?”

  “Is she?” he asks.

  She doesn’t answer.

  “We do not auction or sell virgins on Zandia. Is that what you fear?” I say gently.

  She turns her head in my direction. “Why the questions, then?”

  “What does she know about her origins—her mother?” Daneth asks.

  Zina appears surprised by this line of questioning. “Nothing. How could she? She’s from a slave breeding facility. None of us know our mothers.”

  Dr. Daneth nods like he expected this answer.

  “I’m her family now. And you’re asking a lot of questions.” She sounds suspicious. Like she’s trying to figure something out.

  “We’re bringing you to our planet, and it behooves us to understand your medical and life history,” the captain cuts in, voice smooth.

  “Yeeesss…” She bites her lip; my sensors tell me. “But you’ve asked nearly nothing about me. Lots about Enya.” She glances from him to me. “And back at the auction,” her voice grows stronger, “you weren’t looking for random humans. You checked her barcode.” Now her voice is loud. Full strength. “You wanted her, specifically. Why?”

  She’s breathing rapidly. She stands and clenches her fists. “Tell me right now. What do you want with her? Are you planning to sell her? Hurt he
r? Use her for... something? Experiments? Trade bargains?”

  “Sit down,” the captain snaps, just as I say, “None of that.”

  Zina launches herself at me, perhaps because I’m closest, and hammers me with her fists. Kicks me with her good leg, then cries out in pain and collapses. Automatically I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight. “Stop, Zina,” I command. “No one is going to hurt you or Enya, so don’t make me bind you.”

  Us. I meant don’t make us bind you. Except I know it would be me. I wouldn’t allow anyone else to touch her. Not when she’s like this.

  “I’ll die before I let you do anything with that young,” she snarls and wriggles in my arms, like an electric eel.

  “Veck,” I roar when she bites my arm. Hard. I nearly drop her. “Stop that.”

  “Let me go!” She bites again.

  “Stop it now.” Even without my sight, it’s easy to pin her arms to her waist. She’s so small and fragile, like all the human females. No match for a Zandian warrior. Even a blind one.

  I speak into her ear. “We. Are. Not. Going. To. Sell. Or. Hurt. Her.” She keeps fighting, so I add, “Or. You.”

  She kicks my shin. It doesn’t hurt, despite her hard boot. I hardly think a little human could damage a powerful Zandian. But she’s got a lot of energy, I’ll give her that.

  “Good thing she isn’t trained like Mirelle,” Captain Drayk observes.

  “She’s a handful anyway.” I regrip her, glad he’s right. There are few humans as well-trained as Mirelle who can down even seasoned warriors. This one is doing little more than making my horns and cock stiff.

  Her body is warm and soft, but firm in all the right places. I fight the urge to bite her neck and bury my lips in her soft hair. I have to admit that I enjoy holding her prisoner against my body. I clear my throat. “As you can see.”

  The captain has a strange expression on his face. Maybe the sensors aren’t picking it up correctly—it almost looks like he wants to laugh. But instead he stands and nods.

  “Tarek,” he orders, “contain the human. Take her back to the med bay and discipline her. Dangerous or not, she needs to learn respect and restraint.”

  “Yes, Captain.” Gladly. My horns go stiff and thick on my head, showing everyone just how much that idea appeals to me.

  I know how human females are punished on Zandia. Dr. Daneth’s research and practical application has proven again and again that punishment of a sexual nature—on their bare buttocks, breasts or pussy—provides the most positive results. The female bonds to her master through the combination of humility, pain and pleasure, and her behavior is easily modified as her affection is also earned.

  I never expected to be master or mate to a human. Never thought I’d punish a human of my own, but if Captain Drayk had ordered any other being to do it, I would’ve gone ballistic. Perhaps he observed my attachment to the human and granted me this.

  I toss her over my shoulder and clap one hand down on her ass, hard enough to make her gasp. I carry her, still kicking, down the corridor. I can’t help but notice that she’s clean now, and smells like the light citrus soap and her own delicious scent. Some of her hair gets into my mouth from all her contortions and I spit it out.

  “Stop,” I murmur in her ear, once we’re in the Med Pod 2. The tech comes in to check, and I nod at him. “We’re fine. Stay with Enya in Pod 1.”

  I sit on a hover bench and shift her into my arms on my lap. “Listen, little human. We are not selling or trading you or Enya. I can’t tell you why we needed to get the young, but you’ll find out soon enough. Zandia is a safe place for the both of you.”

  Veck this situation. I wish I could tell her that Enya’s real mother waits back on planet, heart in her throat, dying of anxiety and need. But I can’t. It’s not my place to do so, and my honor prevents me from breaking the promise.

  “You’re safe, but you must respect us and our rules. If you wish to be granted asylum on Zandia, you will behave. On a starship, you don’t attack an officer. That’s grounds for imprisonment. Certainly for punishment.”

  “But of course it is.” She turns her chin and scowls at me. “And then you’ll eject me into space and watch me explode.”

  “Actually, you’d go flat, not explode,” I correct her automatically. “As your lungs compressed. In about forty-five seconds. What I will actually do is this.”

  In just a breath’s time, I attach a pair of magna-cuffs to her slender wrists, and I link them together in front of her. “See? Simple. Just to keep you from, you know, accidentally destroying something critical while you have a tantrum in front of one of the finest Zandian captains in the galaxy.”

  “Let. Me. Go.” She struggles mightily but is no match for the cuffs.

  “No.” I keep my voice even. “You’re in my custody now, little human. I’ll release you when I deem you safe for the Zandians on the ship.”

  She struggles for a few more moments, then collapses against me, panting and trembling. A lot of fight for such a small, fragile creature. I admire it.

  I stroke her hair. She turns her face to mine, studying me with what my sensors say are widened eyes. Her pulse rate remains high, and yet her muscles are loose and she leans into me, not away. Interesting.

  I like having her bound and on my lap. I like it a whole vecking lot. And curse me if I’m wrong, but I think she’s beginning to enjoy it, too. She’s oddly relaxed for a being who’s just been manhandled and cuffed on a stranger’s ship.

  “Right, because there’s an excellent chance I can hit you with my hard head and knock you unconscious, and then pick the lock on these with a metal clip that I find lying around on the floor, and then take over the starship and fly it to safety.”

  At first, I’m confused—then I realize it’s that odd human way of communicating—sarcasm. She’s joking with me! That must be a good sign. I’ve learned that humans do this only with beings who give them a certain level of comfort. They never do it with people they hate or distrust. But it won’t get her a free pass to do whatever she wants.

  My time in the med bay back on Zandia gave me, shall I say, somewhat of an expertise in the art of joking with humans.

  I consider this. “My head is harder than yours, and the cuffs can’t be opened with random junk. And your previous comment about exploding in space lets me know that you probably don’t have even the most basic knowledge about stellar exploration and ship operation, so… no. No chance.”

  She snorts in surprise. Clearly, she did not expect me to engage like this. She grins then hides it immediately.

  “Well, that’s just mean.” She narrows her eyes. “You could at least let me think I had a fighting chance. That would be the gentlemanly, honorable thing to do.”

  “Maybe I’m no gentleman.” My response is automatic. It’s true—my cock is hard under her delectably soft ass. I allow myself the indulgence of stroking her thigh. Veck, this human is sexy. It’s completely inappropriate, but I want to strip her naked and explore her curves with my tongue.

  “Maybe you’re not.” She breathes out and tilts her head upward. Her nipples have hardened to peaks under her tunic.

  “I need to discipline you for your behavior.” My voice is low and husky. I don’t want to terrify her or make her feel we’re like the Ocretions, but I do need to establish mastery over her. It’s for her own good. Otherwise she’ll have a much harder time fitting in on Zandia and King Zander may not grant her asylum.

  “Discipline?” She doesn’t sound afraid. She sounds... interested.

  “That’s right, little human.” My cock is like iron. “An important lesson. A little pain mixed with pleasure. To help you understand your place here.”

  “Hmmm.” She moans softly.

  Her scent changes—arousal? Just as I’d heard. Humans love their discipline, so long as they trust the master who applies it. So long as pleasure centers are also activated. I act without thinking—I cup the back of her head with one strong hand and pull h
er up to me. Claim her mouth.

  She sighs, a little soft sound, then she kisses me back. Eager. She shifts on my lap, adjusting herself, until my cock is even harder than before. Harder than I thought it could get. She grabs at me with her small cuffed hands, tugging my flight suit at the chest, as if she wants me to remove it.

  I don’t know which to touch first—her breast, or the spot between her legs. So, I start with my hand on her waist, then let my fingers trail up, slowly.

  “Tarek,” she whispers. “That feels… good. Is this the punishment?”

  “I’m preparing you for the punishment,” I tell her.

  Maybe it’s true—I don’t know. I understand punishment of human females is tied tightly to sexual pleasure. Usually the pleasure comes after punishment as a reward for submission, but why not switch things up?

  Her eyes are shut, according to my sensors, and her body is relaxed in my grasp. “Take off the cuffs?”

  “Nope.” I adjust her body on my lap and bend down to bite her neck. “Those stay on.”

  I squeeze one nipple through the thick fabric of her camo jacket, and she moans a little and sucks in a breath. I do it again, harder. “And I like that they’re on, because with your hands out of the way, I can do… this.” I slide my palm down her leg, over her thigh.

  She parts her legs and tilts up her hips, so I keep going. “You see?” I press my palm against her clit, through her breeches, and she pushes into me harder. “Easy access, Zina. Just how I like it.”

  I lick her neck and bite it, hard, and she makes an unintelligible sound and tosses her head back onto my shoulder. “Please,” she murmurs.

  “Please what?” I stroke between her legs, again and again, knowing the pressure is enough to tantalize her, but not enough to give her any kind of meaningful release.

  “Just, mmmm,” she moans, and I flick my finger at her clit through the cloth, hard. If she were naked, it would hurt, but through the layers of protection, I figure it’s just right.