Never Submit! The Swarii Brides, Book One (2 page)

“Yes, Sir…” she said, looking unsure. Her confusion was misinterpreted as torturous humiliation.

“Do explain,” he drawled, nearly sounding like he was purring.

“I…” She swallowed and made eye contact with Peyton, who looked aghast at her announcement, and how well Jazeel was reacting to her. “I wouldn’t put on my dress,” she admitted, lowering her head.

‘
Look at her… Look at how remorseful she is. What a lovely sight.’

“This dress… Is a little more revealing than I’m used to, and it was too humiliating to put on.” She looked at Peyton again; he looked like he was about to pass out. “So he spanked me with a strap of leather,” she went on. “That’s why I made him late on bringing me here.” She wiped an old tear out of her eye. 

“Did he spank you
hard
, my little pet?” he teased, still purring.

‘Oh, I hope she pouts. I love it when they pout.’

“Yes, Sir…” She pouted prettily.

‘
Delicious
.’

“He left marks.”

The words coming into her head were so easy to hear now; she didn’t even consciously have to listen to them. It was as if they nestled comfortably through her ear and into her mind with such smoothness that they no longer
had
to make a sound. It was instantaneous, but not an actual voice. She seemed to know what he was thinking, and what Jazeel was going to do before he did it.

He patted his knee. “Come let me see, my poor little pet,” he cooed.

She hesitated—knowing how much Jazeel was going to enjoy this. The other maids had told her that the Frians loved to play sexually with their female slaves, and liked to ogle them because humans were strangely arousing to them, but they never had intercourse with their slaves. This was, the maids had guessed, because they didn’t have the same plumbing as the humans did, forcing them to only have sexual relations with their own species, much to the Frians’ obvious annoyance.

Peyton put a hand on her back as if to remind her to respond to Jazeel’s order. Slowly, she put one foot in front of the other until she was standing in front of Jazeel’s alien body. He gently took her arm in his silky, reptilian hand and pulled her across his lap. Jazeel’s race was very slender and very tall, and as soon as she was across his knees, she felt like her toes were constantly reaching for the floor.

He brushed the cloth panel which covered her bottom to the side and clicked his tongue with satisfaction. He dragged a finger across one of her welts, as if to judge how swollen it was. “Ooh, I bet that hurt.” He continued to trace along her bottom with his fingers.

“It
still
hurts,” she replied miserably, knowing it was what he wanted to hear.

“Mmm, yes, yes. I can see Peyton has kept you well in line. Very good, very good. I am very pleased, Peyton,” he congratulated sincerely, looking up at Peyton, who had been trembling mere seconds ago—Peyton was sure he was going to be punished for leaving marks on her flesh, thinking that the sight of it would not be pleasing to Jazeel. “I was beginning to think you were loosening your grip upon my house, not tightening it. I see that I was mistaken.” He put his hand across her bottom, luxuriating in the radiating heat.

Slowly, he began to play with her bottom hole. Her toes pointed and her mouth formed into an “O” as he quickly stuck his index finger up her bottom to the hilt.

She shrieked. “Please, stop…” Her face brightened red and she looked around. She avoided reaching back to stop him, although she knew he wanted badly for her to do so, to give him an excuse to spank her again. She hugged her arms pathetically around his knee. “Please, my lord! That hurts…” she whined, squinting her eyes so she wouldn’t even have to look at Peyton, who merely looked on, knowing there was nothing he could do.

Jazeel was practically chuckling with his new-found glee. “Responsive little thing,” he noticed, dipping his fingers towards her cunt, feeling the body on his lap cringe when he did so.

She began to sob again.

Jazeel merely laughed and finally let her up. “I will tell you what, my dear little pet,” he cooed, enjoying her tears immensely. He pulled the girl down to sit on his knee, and she winced as her sore bottom was pressed onto his hard thighs. “You can wear anything you’d like… But you must remove your clothing for punishment, always, and for me whenever I wish it, with no complaint.” He looked over at Peyton as he petted Ellie’s head and purred, “See that she gets whatever she desires, and that she learns how to serve all my meals to me.”

Peyton’s face was unmoving. He didn’t want to show any surprise, and was doing a good job of it. He bowed his head. “Yes, Sir.”

“Say yes,
my lord
from now on,” Jazeel said off-handedly, a small smile appearing on his reptilian mouth. “Direct the others to, as well. It
does
seem more appropriate.”

“Yes, my lord.” Peyton bowed again. “I will do so promptly.”

“Take my little pet with you,” he said, gently pulling Ellie off of his lap. “And make sure the seamstress makes her anything her heart desires. But remember, my dear,” he added, reaching up and petting her long hair. “The longer the rope I give you, the harder the jerk back will feel when corrected.” He was counting on this. Ellie could see the situations and scenarios already appearing in his mind—he wanted her to always blush, to never get used to punishments. He didn’t
want
to tame her.

“You are most gracious, my lord,” she said softly, knowing the words would please him, and they did.

“I know,” he agreed loftily, waving her away from him with his hand. She walked back to Peyton quickly and let him guide her out of the room.

The two didn’t say anything until they rounded the corner towards the kitchens. “I don’t know what that was about,” Peyton muttered. Ellie couldn’t tell if he was angry, incredulous, or amazed.

She rubbed her eyes, wondering whether or not she was dreaming what had just happened. It was too weird for words. “I know, it’s really hard to concentrate with all of that going on,” she agreed, hoping to hear some advice.

“With all of what
goin’ on
?” Peyton asked.

“You know…” she said, following him closely. “The voice… The one he doesn’t use his mouth to make.”

Peyton turned to her slowly, his eyebrows lowered. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“Don’t you hear it? You can hear what he’s thinking…” her words faded out as Peyton’s face grew darker and darker. “I guess… you don’t?”

“You heard… voices,” Peyton echoed.

For a moment, she thought that Peyton might take her in hand just for talking like a crazy person—or simply for
being
crazy. “No… Only one voice. Jazeel’s… You didn’t hear the part about making you into a… eunuch?”

Peyton’s eyes widened in horror at the mere prospect.

“That he thought you might be… you know… coupling… with the maids,” she went on, twiddling her fingers nervously. “He’ll be checking their virginities soon, something like that? No?” She swallowed hard. “Okay. Maybe I imagined it.” The look Peyton was giving her was so intense, she winced.

Only just then, another serving girl shuffled up to them from behind. “Peyton,” she breathed. “The master wants to check all of the girls to make sure we’ll all pure…” Her cheeks were blushing. “One by one. Before supper.”

Peyton looked slowly over at the girl, gave a singular nod and said, “Very well—inform the girls.”

The girl scurried down the hall quickly. Peyton slowly turned back to Ellie. “You—come with me,” he said, taking her by her forearm and pulling her, hard and fast, through the nearby kitchen and into a pantry. He closed the door behind them and began to speak with a very low, quiet voice. “You can hear Jazeel’s thoughts, then.” It didn’t seem like a question, so Ellie didn’t answer. “So… So am I safe, then?”

“Jazeel seems happy with you, now,” Ellie said, her voice even quieter than Peyton’s. “He likes it when you punish the girls… So, you can’t hear the voices?”

“No,” Peyton hissed. “Nobody can. Humans don’t have
shal’ta!”

Ellie blinked a couple of times, confused. “
Shal’ta
?”

Peyton looked back and forth, as if to double-check they were alone. “When Frians speak to each other, they don’t use words or sounds. They use
Shal’ta
, they call it. Supposedly their thoughts naturally fly through the air, like words. If they want to, they can keep thoughts silent—so it’s sort of like…”

“Telepathy,” Ellie whispered, nodding. She cocked her head to the side, now looking more confused than ever. “Then why can
I
…”

“I don’t know, but if you don’t want your brain put under a Frian microscope, don’t tell him that you can hear him. Don’t let
anyone
know. You never know who’s listenin’, and you don’t want anyone to tell on you to get out of somethin.’ Keep this between you and me,” Peyton demanded, wagging his finger at her face.

“Why would I even
want
to read his mind?” Ellie asked. Really, she was disturbed by what she had heard already.

“I just saw you use it to your advantage! I’ve
never
seen him take such a likin’ to a girl before. You did everythin’ 
perfectly
. I’ve been servin’ for four years now, and
I
couldn’t have done so well. He normally doesn’t give gifts to 
anyone
. Besides, if you tell me what he wants, there will be less severe punishments. The best we can do is please him. If he’s pleased, we get rewarded, if he’s pissed, he takes it out on us. You can’t even begin to understand what the Frians are capable of. They’re soulless. We aren’t even slaves to them—we’re livestock.”

Peyton’s lip was curled with disgust, but Ellie could tell he was still excited. With reason—her freakishness was going to save his balls, literally. She was going to help him look around the corner, and make his life easier and less fearful. She could only hope she wouldn’t screw up.

* * *

After that day—really, after her first punishment—Peyton and she became friends… As much as one could become friends with Peyton, who ran the palace as if it was a war zone under attack. They both had one objective in mind—to do anything to keep Jazeel happy with them.

Ellie was ever-listening to his thoughts and his conversations. Jazeel was very powerful, she recognized, even where other Frians were concerned. It seemed the Frian kingdom wasn’t broken into provinces, like on earth, but by planets, and Jazeel was the High Ruler of his own—everything she could see from the windows was his. She served Jazeel however she could, pretending it was a game. He liked her looks, he liked her spirit, and occasionally he liked to nitpick her in order to have her spanked, which he greatly enjoyed as if it was a spectator sport. Peyton was on her team; when he spanked her in front of Jazeel, as Jazeel would have him do from time to time, he didn’t give Ellie more than she could handle, and she kicked and screamed and cried like an Oscar-winning actress. Ellie was never spanked by Jazeel’s hand. He simply never got angry enough with her; she never gave him the opportunity.

Peyton’s planned worked, as well—the servant girls were getting punished less and less by Jazeel. Peyton was finally able to understand Jazeel’s sadistic tendencies as if they were a sexual inclination, and acting on that, Peyton was able to constantly put on a show of the girls’ discipline without them actually coming to any harm. There were no more whippings. There were no more harsh punishments.

Jazeel enjoyed Ellie more than anyone else, and even made her
prima
—the head female servant—within the year.

* * *

There was a parade outside of the palace one morning—it showed up all of the sudden, and Peyton hadn’t mentioned anything about it. For a moment, Ellie feared that it was for the arrival of Lady Galaal, who was Jazeel’s betrothed, and who had the same sexual tastes for humans as Jazeel did—it was why he chose Lady Galaal for his mate, in fact. Yet Ellie thought she wasn’t expected to arrive for another few days.

She put on her best, figuring it was some special day or special celebration she didn’t know about, but hoping that Jazeel would be in a good mood because of it. A good mood for Jazeel normally meant gifts and rewards to the servants for doing the smallest of things for him. She nearly
hoped
to be called into his chambers that day—she could please him better than anyone.

She woke up and did her hair in a twisted up braid as it was how Jazeel best liked it, and wore pants that actually went to her ankles, but she knew Jazeel liked them, anyway. They were white, light, and flowy. And they were open in slits on the outer sides, which gave Jazeel just enough skin to satisfy him. She rarely was asked to take off her clothing anymore; she knew what his alien eyes liked to see even better than her skin.