Chosen by the Governor (26 page)

“Sir. I’ll be good,” she squeaked between spanks.

The pretense at discipline was over. It wasn’t what either of them truly desired. The stiffness in her body had eased. She was ready.

He ramped up the hardness, pinned her under his arm, and rattled off a series of spanks on each sit spot until each one had turned crimson. Her response was to cease struggling and she moaned. A long, soft sound of satisfaction. This, her submission, was his goal, and it was everything he needed from his companion, his woman. Finally, he’d found her.

* * *

He’d fucked her mouth and forced her to orgasm with only his fingers. Her clitoris was in such a sensitive state that if he tickled it, she would come hard. She lacked mental discipline, Lalita would have reminded her and the verdict was probably true. With Marco watching over her, she’d always be at risk of a spanking, but she didn’t mind in the slightest, not if it felt as wonderful as this.

He’d shifted from mild reprimand into the kind of spanking she really needed. The hard kiss of each slap resounded in her ears and jarred her hips into his meaty thighs. It hurt, boy, did it sting like crazy when he landed them in quick succession The burning flare followed by the spike of pain as each smack merged into a pool of heat. Over and over, he aimed at the same two little spots. Her ass yielded, then like a row of dominoes toppling over, so did the rest of her.

Free of the Volta, she had his undivided attention. No more kowtowing to Lalita and the other overseers, she would only have one person directing her. The spanking continued, gradually becoming a fog of pain and she ground her hips down into his lap, feeling his erection beneath her bones.

Words weren’t necessary any longer. When he finished, he rubbed the hot spots briefly, then fingered her again. She held her breath, working hard on holding back another orgasm, which waited in the wings, desperate to come out onto the stage.

She drifted, happy to let Marco do as he pleased and he did.

Bending her over the edge of the bed, her blazing ass on display alongside her throbbing sex, he molded his body over hers. The head of his cock nudged once, twice, then entered her pussy, pushing aside the residual effect of her unending spasms. Marco stilled, keeping himself in check as she stretched around his steely rod.

Holding her wrists above her head, he pinned her to the bed and she wore his body like a coat—her smaller, slender frame draped by his muscular shell. What lay inside him, his beating heart, thumped against her shoulder blades. The weight of his chest pressed her down and she sank into the mattress. He’d taken ownership of her.

The way he overwhelmed her, made his presence felt after the horrible encounter with Dr. Han calmed her. It was the opposite effect to what anyone might expect if they witnessed the scene. If she’d written a play describing the dominance of an unyielding governor over his captive prisoner, spanking her, directing her with cool commands, nobody would believe it was her wish to bend to his demands.

The passage of time had no bearing. Nobody interrupted them. If she needed food or drink, she would wait. With his cock pounding and his hips slapping against her bottom, Marco fucked her with unrelenting passion until he pumped his cum into her pussy. The mix of juices, his and her copious offering, provided sufficient lubrication for him to coat his shaft and prepare her bum hole.

“Relax,” he soothed as he probed, checking her readiness.

He shifted her onto the bed, slipped a pillow beneath her hips, and she spread herself, using the give of the mattress to aid her relaxation. The burn of his entry nearly, as it often did, spiked a moment of panic, but she’d learned to ignore it. The sensation passed quickly and instead she enjoyed the way his cock filled her, occupied her and the friction of his sweeping strokes echoed into her pussy and along to her clit. She scrunched her fingers around the abandoned sheet and rocked her pelvis in time to his thrusts.

The pace altered. He moved faster with brisk jerks of his hips. While he fucked, his hands roved about, constantly exploring her contours. The dip between her shoulder blades, the small ring of her neck, then under to cup her breasts and squeeze them into his palms.

Out of sight, her clitoris rhythmically chafed the pillow. “Please,” she muttered between breathless gasps and whimpers. “Please, may I come?”

“Wait.” He commanded her in the tone of voice she’d come to admire—stern and measured. He looped her long locks of hair into his fist, lifted her head, and made eye contact. She gazed into his face—the beads of sweat trickling down his forehead indicated the energy he had to utilize to sustain his vigorous pummels.

Catching sight of her smile, he paused.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you for coming back.”

He smiled, a crooked one as he fought to stem his own orgasm. “Now. Fuck, now!” He thrust hard and his balls touched her fiery ass.

They came in rapid succession. Marco spilt inside her bottom while waves of delightful spasms raced from out of her pussy and clitoris reaching every nerve of her body. Flashes of light flickered before her eyes and her vision blurred. The explosion of nervous energy nearly caused her to black out.

Marco slumped to one side of her. “I won’t leave you,” he whispered, then closed his eyes.

Freya cuddled up next to Marco and watched him slumber. While he dozed, snoring softly, she basked in a swath of post-sex warmth and the heat of her ass. She listened to his slowing heartbeats, her ear pinned to his tattooed chest.

After a while, he stirred and yawned. “You’re awake.”

“Yes. I’m too happy to sleep.”

He rose onto his elbow. “I should bathe you.” He swung his legs to the edge of the bed.

“Wait, please.” She pressed her hand against his chest. “I have to know. What will become of me?”

Marco climbed back onto the bed. “You’ll live here in my residence. I’m sure you’ll enjoy that, keeping me company, welcoming me home each day.”

She would, she’d no doubts about that. She’d dreamt many nights about living with him. It had been her wish from the outset. However, what exactly was she to him? “My freedom? Am I still a prisoner?”

“For now, you are still officially a convicted spy. But that doesn’t alter how I feel about you or how I will show that to you—this, what we did in here, is how we shall be. It means I shall keep you safe and make love to you every day. As for your conviction, I’m hopeful mother can advocate on your behalf, and as the evidence in your favor is good, we must trust in her abilities.”

“Your mother? How can she help? She’s not a warrior,” Freya frowned.

“Women are not weak, Freya, not on our world. Yes, they might appear to be so because we don’t let them fight, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have influence. If your father can present a case against Tony at the same time, then there is always hope.”

Her letters had gone unanswered and she worried her father had nothing positive to tell her. “Dad hasn’t contacted me.”

“Give him time.”

“If… if I do win my freedom, what will happen to us? Should I go back to Earth?”

He spoke without hesitating. “That is your choice. I can’t force you to stay. If you want to be my companion, I would be very happy. Honored.”

“Companion?”

“I suppose it is the equivalent of your life partner, although we don’t hold to the lifelong part. It means you are mine and nobody else’s. It usually signifies that we wish to mate.”

She hadn’t considered he might want children. It saddened her that it would be something that would be unfulfilled in their lives. “Children? I suppose that will be impossible for us.”

Marco cleared his throat. “Actually, it is possible.”

Freya’s shoulders stiffened. “We’re compatible! How do you know?” As she asked the question, she guessed the answer. Dr. Han’s studies were part of a wider program and she doubted it was entirely to do with maintaining the health of aliens.

“Yes, I think you understand.” Marco sighed. “It’s a secret. Earth, and Lucilla’s planet, are special to us. Your species of humanoid are the only ones that can interbreed with us.”

“Why is that important for you? The Vendu have remained isolated on Earth, uninterested in us.”

“But we didn’t conquer your territories. We also brokered peace treaties with Lucilla’s people. Usually the Vendu crush any rebellions and force the indigenous population into servitude. On Earth that didn’t happen. You see,” Marco inhaled deeply before continuing, “not only is our planet dying, so are we.” He uttered sentence with a voice of doom.

“I don’t understand. You’re the great Vendu, an empire.”

“We’ve spread our people too thinly across the galaxy, and due to our military’s preference for self-sacrifice rather than captivity, our numbers are not as strong as you might believe—hence the secrecy. We might have explored numerous planets, but in reality, we’ve laid claim to only a few because most have environments that are too harsh for even our terraforming technology. And, our search hasn’t just been for a new home world, it’s also for a compatible race to extend our bloodline. Without the help of humans, we might not survive into the next millennium.”

Freya guffawed. The idea that the Vendu could simply announce their intention to breed with humans and expect her people to comply was ludicrous. “We’ll resist you. No human would allow this to happen. What incentive could you possibly…” She halted. Marco’s eyes widened and he bolted upright in bed.

“Terraforming,” they said in unison.

She shook her head. “It can’t be done. I mean, would that really be something worth trading for?”

“We’d never give up military technology, but other things, like terraforming and renewable technologies, these we would part with if it ensured cooperation from Earthlings. Yes, you know, it might be something to negotiate.”

“You’d have to prove that there is more than procreation involved. You see how important it is for us to bond with our children, to maintain those family ties. We need love, Marco, and can’t just be turned into baby factories.”

Marco nodded. “We’re proof of that. We can show both the Vendu and humans. Once we’ve ensured your innocence, you and I can work toward convincing our people there is hope for us. The emperor is tired of expansion and war. He’s ready to consider alternatives. I know this from mother.”

“Then I shouldn’t lose hope?”

“On the contrary, you must live in hope.” He tipped her chin toward his and moved to kiss her.

Freya sensed the residue of stickiness between her legs and elsewhere. “Marco,” she murmured as he grazed his lips along her neck.

“Mm?”

“When you’re working, what will I do?”

He leaned back and shrugged. “I suppose you’ll do what you did in the Volta.”

She chewed her lips. “Could I help out with those projects you’ve initiated? The theater—”

“We’ll see. You’ll have to be good. Not get involved in prisoners’ affairs and problems. I can just see you trying to fix everything down there.” He cocked an eyebrow.

“I’ll try. I’ll be good,” she added swiftly. She was glad to be out of the Volta, but she’d miss the company of other women. “My maid, Gellis, will not miss fighting my hair every morning.”

Marco laughed and combed his fingers through her tangled hair. “We’ll appoint another servant. Someone who can take care of you. Keep you in the state fit for the ruler of Tagra.”

“Gellis?”

“Sadly, she’s in the Volta and Lalita will keep her there. You can pick somebody else.”

Freya pondered, but the decision came easily. “Tally. She was the one who welcomed me when I arrived here. She deserves a break from making those ghastly crackers.”

Marco guffawed. “Those crackers are what the Vendu army march upon.”

“Poor soldiers,” she gasped in a mock fashion, rolling her eyes upwards. “I should make you cornbread instead.”

“Cook for me?” He resumed his petting and aimed his face toward her nipple. “That might be the best thing you could ever do for me.”

Freya leaned away from his ticklish tongue and gave him a real pout of indignation. “The best? I’ve just given you my best—”

He laughed. “A joke, sweetness. I’m learning too!”

Epilogue

The view out of the window appeared unchanged. The prisoners still roamed from building to building, the guards still marched when on patrol. The heat of the sun roasted the backs of those who labored outside and the wind swept up the sand, blowing it across the rooftops. Freya pursed her lips and commiserated with those in the canyon. However, her fortunes were much different.

Behind her back, Marco sat at his desk, putting the final touches to a report—his last as governor of Tagra.

The planet had circled the primary sun twice since she’d arrived on the penal colony. The length of her stay was not determined by her custodial sentence but by her own choice.

After Dr. Han’s abduction of her, the doctor had been recalled to Halos. There were no repercussions following Marco’s intervention. No reprimand or demands for Freya to be handed back to the alien health division. From that day on, she’d lived in a state of limbo. No longer his jenjin, but neither had she ceased being a prisoner. When in the residence, she acted as if she was Marco’s wife. She ensured his time there was his to enjoy and that he was content. His promise to love her and cherish her remained unbroken. However, for the duration of that time, she hadn’t been allowed out without his permission or without the protection of an escort. She hid her frustration. It wasn’t his fault she was a prisoner.

If she had bent his rules, her ass paid for it with a thorough spanking. She didn’t mind that he maintained her role as his submissive companion. For some reason, probably because she’d come to find comfort in the role, she’d not forgotten what she’d been taught in the jenjin. She performed her rituals, continued to meditate and practice her harp, and much to Marco’s ongoing delight even pole dance. Those things helped her adapt to her strange life.

Then, the fateful day had arrived when Tagra had nearly completed another passage around the sun. Her father made contact via Hadro. Seeing the video of her mother and father sitting side by side had brought both joy and sadness to Freya. The dark shadows under their sorrow-filled eyes and their hands clasped together as if to hold in their pain was a crippling display of their grief. The joy came from news that Tony had been arrested—her father spoke with relish as he described the man’s downfall. The Earth’s defense council had confirmed his deceitful actions.