The Alien's Captive (11 page)

Bron flopped down beside her, pulled her roughly to him. And she found herself holding her breath as his hand unexpectedly went to her hair, smoothing it in a gentle gesture.

“I wanted to kill him,” he said after a few long moments of silence, and Phaedra looked at him, puzzled. “I wanted to kill Primus when he touched you. And I was sickened to touch Dakara, especially when I saw the pain in your eyes.”

He grasped her face in his hands; the gaze that locked on hers was serious, intense. She could smell traces of her arousal on his breath.

“You are my pet, Phaedra, my slave. Hearing you freely call me master was more exciting than the sight of a hundred females spread out for my pleasure. But make no mistake: I know there is more to you than a body to be owned. I saw the strength in you out there; I saw in you a human female with will and spirit and intelligence. I will make Primus pay for humiliating you, for calling you a beast.”

Phaedra’s response surprised both of them. In a quick and graceful move, she pushed herself away, pushed Bron over onto his back and straddled him, her damp mound pressing into his lower belly as she leaned over, her nipples grazing his chest. Now she captured his face in her hands.

“You don’t have to,” she said. “You don’t have to harm him to reduce him any further. I knew the minute I met him he wasn’t worthy to walk in my master’s shadow. And yes, you are right; I was pained when you touched Dakara. Earth women bind themselves to one male in most cases. On my planet, I never found one.” She paused. “Perhaps it was because the universe was saving me for you.”

Phaedra lowered herself to his chest, her ear taking in the sound of his multiple heartbeats. It made sense that a Traoian male would have more than one heart; it would take more than one, she thought as he held her, to contain all the strength and courage of the man who’d finally won the small, single heart that beat behind her pleasure-sore breasts.

I’m happy
, she thought.
I’m a slave. And I’m happy
.

She closed her eyes, then, praying she’d always feel that way.

Chapter Twelve

General Augustus Bron’s poll numbers increased dramatically after the televised assembly. As expected, in successive days, the news reports were dominated with images of Phaedra’s bored reaction to the senator’s touch, Dakara’s raptured visage at the brush of the general’s fingers and the extraordinary reaction of Bron’s pet when he ordered her to release.

But even more compelling had been the shots of Dakara’s grief and pain as her master had brutally punished her for what the media labeled his own failings. Public perception of the senator was irreparably damaged by the incident, with the side effect being just what Bron had wanted: Traoians weren’t just admiring him, now, but were listening to him.

Finally, he was able to turn the discussion away from personalities and pets to what he believed the public needed to hear—an analysis of how expansion and domination of other planets was straining both Traoian resources and reputation. Bron argued that the reach for resources and power was not helping the average Traoian whose son was pressed into mandatory military service, but the planet’s elite, whose standard of living was rising even as military expenditures cut into other facets of the planet’s budget.

And listening to all of this was Phaedra, who sat just behind her master as he spoke. Her position raised eyebrows, and she silently wondered if her presence would be seen as frivolous. But then she realized the strategy in her appearances when he began to point out that even in the wake of budget cuts, the upper class was bringing in pets for their own amusement.

“It’s a sad statement on what we’ve become that I would not be standing before you today were it not for my pet,” he said. “Do you not see? These slaves serve two purposes—amusement for the rich but a distraction for you. What did it take for you to listen to my message? Sound reason? No. None would listen until I had sufficiently proven my mastery over a creature whose back I could snap like a branch.” He paused, the audience soberly silenced by his truth as they looked at the small female seated behind him.

“My fellow Traoians, we deserve a society that benefits us all! Why should some have pets but not others? If the elite enjoy such a privilege, should not the working class? But that will not happen if we continue our excursions into distant parts of the galaxy, where we are already finding more difficult opponents, more savage opponents. On present course, we may soon find ourselves slaves to another race. And for what? For
what
? For expansion? For greed? For more of what we already have, or in quest of what we may discover we want? We seek to control distant worlds even as we lose control of our own. I say ‘no more!’ Let us strive for a peaceful, prosperous Trao, where all are equal!”

Not since the arena had the crowd reacted as they were reacting now. The roar was deafening, and the sound followed them out of the hall. Bron had a meeting with some of the military advisers next, and as they departed people reached out to touch the general as he passed.

But someone else reached for him, too. Phaedra had seen Senator Flavius Rue on several occasions, and recognized him as one of Bron’s biggest supporters. Since the assembly, Bron had divulged bits and pieces of his path from soldier to politician, and she knew Senator Rue had convinced her master not only to run, but to take a pet as a political commodity. But now the paunchy face of the older politician looked concerned.

“A word before you go, general?” he asked.

Bron looked down at the senator. “I suppose I have time. Come, Phaedra.”

She followed him through a side door. Inside, Flavius Rue’s pet, Lliana, reclined on a colorful pillow, the collar around her neck tethered by a slim chain to a hook in the wall. She’d not been at the speech, and sat up and stretched as the group walked in.

“Lliana has sweets and playthings. You can amuse each other while we talk.” the senator said to Phaedra, and she was struck by the condescension in his tone. She knew it was not meant as a slight; this was how most owners talked to their pets, and once again emphasized to Phaedra the stark differences between her master and others.

It was with reluctance that she obeyed, joining Lliana, who was enjoying a sweet, sticky fruit served on Trao X39 as she fixed her attention to a broadcast on a small InfoBoard by her cushion. Phaedra pretended to join her, but instead trained her ears toward the conversation taking place between the males.

“You risk much with your populist line,” Senator Rue was saying as he poured and offered Bron a drink, which the general waved away. “Promising to make all equal, to give them the same access to pets… it will win votes, but you’re making some people nervous.”

“How so?”

“Well,” Flavius laughed, and took a sip of his drink. “They’ll get angry when we don’t come through.”

Bron paused. “And why shouldn’t we?” he asked. “I’m not out there to simply win votes, Flavius. I fully intend to cut back on the military excursions, to empower more people. And while I do not favor slavery, we both know if the elite are to have pets, we cannot keep them exclusively to ourselves.”

“And why not?” Flavius was angry now. “Those of us who worked to get where we are should enjoy the benefits of our stations! We who backed you, Bron, did so to stop the halt of military expansion that empowers our opponents, not to strip us of the benefits of our rank.”

Bron turned, ran a large hand through his thick black hair and then turned back, angry.

“Will you listen to yourself, Flavius?” he asked, his voice dripping with indignation. “Your
station
? You were put here by Traoians, to serve at the pleasure of Traoians! And now you warn me against protecting a system that fosters the elite taking slaves while people go hungry?” He paused, shaking his head in disappointment. “I thought you advanced my candidacy for the people, but it seems to me that you are more interested in seeing influence with the military simply shifted from one group of senators to the other.”

Flavius was raising his hands now, trying to calm the general, but Bron would not be calmed, and took a step toward the portly senator as he continued. “Let me make something very clear to you, Flavius. I will continue to remind Traoians that we are their servants, not their masters, and that any male who works hard and prospers will have the same opportunities and benefits as the ruling class. We will
not
hoard the spoils of our success for ourselves. We will
not
set ourselves apart, and I will not lie about my goals to you or to the public. Do you understand?” He stepped back. “If you thought you were getting a puppet with military sway you could use for your benefit, you were sorely mistaken, senator.” He bowed low in what seemed to Phaedra to be a mocking gesture. “Good day, Flavius.”

Bron was quiet as he entered the pod.

“He was very angry.” Phaedra allowed herself to make the observation as they entered they were seated. “He tried not to show it, but I could tell.”

“I’m sure he was.” Bron’s voice was tight. “He thought me a pawn and is finding out otherwise.”

“Do you think he’ll turn on you?” Phaedra asked, concerned.

Bron smirked. “No. I have the support of the people now. If he speaks against me, he only hurts himself politically.” He gave a bitter laugh. “It seems that he has more in common with Primus than he ever realized.”

Phaedra considered this.

“Master,” she asked. “You said you originally didn’t want a slave. If you come to power, will you free us?”

She could not read his expression as he answered, “Would you want to be freed?”

Phaedra was sitting across from Bron. Now she moved from her seat and sank to her knees on the floor between his legs. She shook her head as she looked up and answered. “No. I never thought I’d feel this way, and I’d never want to see anyone enslaved who didn’t want to be. When I think of Dakara’s life, I am so sad for her. But life with you? My life of submission to your will? Never did I think I could be so happy or complete.”

He smiled down at her. “When I am senator, I will work for laws that allow Traoians to take their pets as mates.” He took her chin in his huge hand and looked into her eyes. “And I will take you as mine.”

Phaedra put her hand over his as she returned his gaze. “I will still remain your slave,” she said. “Mate or pet, you’ll always own me, my master general.”

He pulled her onto his lap, and she straddled him, her pussy already slick as he worked her down until she was snugly seated on his huge cock. As the pod moved along, he worked her up and down on his shaft, absorbing her little moans and cries with his mouth.

Bron lasted longer than other men, but for Phaedra, it still felt too soon when her tryst with Bron was over and her master released her to Matron Sharad for her weekly grooming. It was a regular routine, leaving her with the matron when he had meetings with military leaders to discuss current campaigns or shaky alliances.

Matron Sharad, as always, was happy to see Phaedra. After her initial coolness following the bad publicity Phaedra had received, the matron had done a complete shift once the general’s pet had attended the now-famous assembly that had turned the political tide for her master.

After a week of being used nightly by her insatiable master, Phaedra was ready to relinquish herself to the matron’s chambers with their warm fragrant baths, body rubs, and rich foods. Part of the treatments included something similar to a hot stone massage on Earth, only these stones hummed, sending waves of warm vibration down into Phaedra’s muscles. It was her favorite part of the experience, and as she lay on one of the tables, she thought again how fortunate she felt to have—at least—found her way to a good master who pampered her. Yes, he punished her when she disobeyed, but even that was, she decided, becoming a source of security. Augustus Bron was genuine in his motives and motivations, and she found comfort in her new, well-ordered life.

“Comfortable?” Matron Sharad had entered the room with a tray. On it were some of the sweet cakes that she knew Phaedra adored, along with a drink that looked like a milkshake.

“Yes,” Phaedra said lazily, sighing as she breathed in the chamber’s perfumed air. “It’s quiet in here today, though; that’s unusual.”

The matron smiled. “It seems that many of the pets were otherwise occupied. More time for you, though, little one. You have me all to yourself.” She began to move the stones. “Here. Sit up. I have a treat for you.”

Phaedra reached for a wrap as the matron brought the tray over.

“We’ve tried to replicate something I read is a delicacy on your Earth… choc-o-late?”

Phaedra smiled, delighted. “Delicacy? More like a staple, especially for Earth women. It’s the one thing about home that I do miss.” She picked up the shake and took a sip, then closed her eyes. It had been prepared to perfection, and she almost shuddered with delight at the creamy flavor.

“So you like it here, do you?” Matron Sharad picked up a towel and draped it over her arm.

“Yes,” Phaedra said, stopping to suddenly yawn. “I was scared at first, and lost. But the general… he is so good to me.”

“Yes. I expect you will miss him when you go.” The matron was staring at her now, and Phaedra, feeling suddenly fatigued, wondered if she’d misheard.

“Miss him?” she asked.

“Yes,” Matron Sharad said. “When you’re taken to the breeding colonies on Savusia.” The matron turned. “Dr. GilAman, I think she’s almost ready.”

At that moment, the wall nearest her seemed to move, and a shape emerged. In the back of her increasingly foggy mind, Phaedra remembered the day that the Savusian doctor had seemed to appear suddenly in the room. Now she realized that then—like now—he’d been there all along. He was able to camouflage, and the talent would have fascinated her if she weren’t terrified by what she already knew about the Savusians. She felt herself helplessly slump down onto the table, and struggled to keep conscious as the two faces looming above her.