Master of the Galaxy (5 page)

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Authors: Tasha Temple

Tags: #romance, #erotic, #erotica, #science fiction, #bdsm, #domination, #submission, #sci fi, #master and slave

BOOK: Master of the Galaxy
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I wanted to say what was in my heart at that
moment to Him, but I did not. I do not know whether things would
have turned out any differently. Whether, when I disappeared from
his planet, he would have looked for me, sought me out, come to
retrieve me from Yar if I had told him. But I did not tell Him. I
was afraid. Afraid to admit it to myself, afraid of what he might
say, afraid of rejection. Did he feel the same way or was I simply
one of his many beauties, to serve as a willing vessel only for his
pleasure? I knew I would serve Him no matter how he felt about me
and so thought it might be better if I did not know whether I meant
any more to Him.

CHAPTER
5

He had left the planet again. He would often
leave for days, weeks at time, months even it seemed, although they
told me when I returned to Yar that I was missing for only a
year.

I was meditating. He had a beautiful garden
in which I could meditate as often as I liked. I felt calm, at
peace there. I became much recharged while on his planet. If you do
not understand, when I am meditating, I am nearly oblivious to the
outside world. I have always depended on my Jiikorian security to
protect me when I am in this deep state and I trusted His security
as well. But fate was to have other plans for me that day.

I remember strong arms around me, lifting me
up, turning me into them. I instinctively knew it was not Him. But
it was another tall male, handsome they would say, except with
light hair, rather than dark, like His. His eyes were red, but a
beautiful, deep red, not a lurid color.

“Are you all right?” he asked me.

“Of course,” I replied. Why would I not have
been all right?

“I am Jurig,” he said. “I’ve led a small
contingent here to rescue you. Come, the ship is waiting.”

“To rescue me?” I repeated, still a little
dazed from being interrupted during my meditative state.

Jurig pulled me to his chest and caressed my
hair. “Shhhh. It’s over now,” he said. “All over.”

I let him hold me and then he said, “We must
hurry,” and took my hand.

“But,” I said, protesting.

He looked at me sympathetically. “No one
will know where you have gone. My team and the ship are all
cloaked. Your escape will be undetectable. Besides, Xane is not on
the planet now. He can’t hurt you.”

Xane. That was the first time I knew His
name. I liked it. I almost giggled, thinking of what He might say
if he returned and I called him Xane.
“It’s been a long time,”
he would say. “Yes,” I’d answer. “May I worship your cock, sir?”
“Have you been a good girl, my little pet?” “Oh yes, Master
Xane
.”
That would probably earn me twenty hard lashes with
his cane for my impudence. But it would be well worth it.

“Well?” Jurig said expectantly.

“Well, what?” I asked, having no idea that
he had even spoken to me.

He looked at me sideways as if thinking, he
has abused you more than we had feared.

“Never mind,” he said quietly. “In here.” He
led me up the steps into his ship, simple enough, but also
sophisticated it seemed, although I was no expert at ships.

“This is my ship. I’m a bounty hunter. Your
planet hired me to find you. You’ve been the most sought after
hostage in the galaxy for nearly a year now.”

I sat quietly where he indicated I should. I
felt disoriented, out of sorts.

“I imagine you’ll be glad to return home to
Yar,” he said, glancing back at me while he powered up the
engines.

“Yes,” I said.

* * * * *

Jurig set the course for Yar. It would take
several weeks. He came into my cabin and found me there, sitting on
my bed, as usual.

“You’ve been so quiet on this journey,” he
said. “You don’t need to be. There is nothing to fear anymore.”

His hands went to unfasten the collar at my
neck. I pulled away from him, alarmed. He frowned.

“Let me just have a look at it,” he said
gently.

I let him run his fingers over it. There was
no clasp, no latch, no way for Jurig to remove it. Xane would have
seen to that. I was relieved.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll find someone to
remove it when we get you back to Yar.”

I said nothing but was regaining some of my
senses. I knew I would not let anyone touch it.

I watched his expression shift then, knew
his thoughts were on something else. He leaned down and kissed my
lips lightly.

“I realize that your race typically does not
engage in . . . sexual relations,” Jurig said, somewhat awkwardly,
“but the Sartyrians unquestionably . . . do.” He was referring to
Xane’s race. I had guessed as much when I had glanced at the
systography readouts on the bridge of Jurig’s ship.

He looked at me as if trying to determine
whether I had had sex during my abduction and what I now thought
about it. I betrayed nothing.

He gently pushed the hair at my temples
aside.

“I can take away any unpleasant memories you
might have,” he said softly, kissing my forehead and brushing his
lips down the side of my face.

His hands began to move over my body. It
wasn’t disagreeable and I was curious. I let him continue. He slid
them under my simple wrap, running them over my hips and then they
traveled tentatively to my breasts.

Jurig pulled back a little, looking at me to
see if I would protest. I lay back on the bed with my hands beside
my head, watching his rich, burgundy eyes take in my lack of
hesitation. His hands parted my wrap in the front and he stroked my
breasts reverently. Then he leaned down and kissed my nipples,
taking them into his mouth, laving them with his tongue and gently
nibbling on them with his teeth as he continued to massage my
breasts with his hands. The sensations were not unpleasant and I
arched slightly into him which seemed to encourage him greatly.

He wrapped his hands gently in my hair and
possessed my mouth. Jurig’s kisses were not like Xane’s, but he had
passion for me and it showed. After some time of tasting my mouth
and caressing my flesh, he sat up, undressed and returned to the
bed. He slid my wrap from my shoulders and removed it from my body,
dropping it to the floor. I had nothing on underneath. Xane
preferred me to wear very little clothing and I was used to it. I
could tell Jurig at least approved of that.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. I knew
that he wanted to say my name after his declaration, but was afraid
to. I am intimidating to most and my reputation is widespread. I am
not sure Jurig believed that what we were doing was really
happening.

He lowered himself onto me, caressing my
body more, causing the heat to rise in my flesh again and then slid
into me while facing me. This was new to me. I watched his face and
saw that it was contorted with a mixture of pleasure and disbelief.
I wondered how it would have been had I ever been able to see
Xane’s face with this much clarity. But he either engaged me from
behind or I was blindfolded or folded in half, or hung from the
ceiling, or if I was in his arms facing him, he would hold me aloft
in the air or up against a wall and my eyes were usually glazed
from passion, unable to focus as much I was able to focus on Jurig.
Xane had never taken me like this, so . . . simply.

Jurig continued his motions as we lay on the
bed together, exceedingly straightforward, him above me, me on my
back, my legs slightly bent. I found it unusual, but interesting.
He returned to my breasts, fondling, kissing them and wrapped his
arms around my shoulders, whispering things of flattery as he drove
himself into my warm, welcoming flesh.

Jurig was not unskilled although I felt no
shockwaves, no roaring tongues of flame, no wildfires sweeping my
body. I did feel pleasure, aches, and satisfaction. Before he
emptied his cock in me, he pulled out and lapped with his tongue
around my little bud until I shrieked and quaked and then plunged
back into me and poured out his release.

It was good. To pretend that it was not
would be a lie.

I returned to my duties on Yar although it
was some time before I was ready to travel again. Jurig and I
continued to see each other. Yarians do not mate and do not have
romantic visitors, but Jurig was seen by others as a companion,
someone with whom I shared a platonic bond because he had rescued
me. His presence on Yar was tolerated and I engaged him whenever he
came to visit, which was quite frequently. Jurig made sure I
climaxed each time, along with him. He never left me unfulfilled.
Xane, as you know, was never that way.

Eventually everyone, Jurig and Yarians
alike, came to accept my collar of stones, taking to calling it a
“necklace.” I wouldn’t let anyone near it, let alone a locksmith.
It may have bothered Jurig, but he never mentioned it.

And one day, I was ready to travel again,
alone. It would be my first journey from Yar since that fateful
trip to the asteroid of Karatar. This was not to be diplomacy
visit, but a visit to another planet for a short study on recent
advances in systography. With hundreds of years left in my
lifespan, I couldn’t remain on Yar forever. It was my duty and
destiny to make an impression in the galaxy. Besides, I was good at
what I did. The best there was. There was no reason to waste my
talents.

I rode the small ship to a planet in the
tertiary star system of Qazon, sixteen days away from Yar. It was
an easy journey and I let us get eight days from Yar before I took
any action.

CHAPTER
6

Although Jiikorians are trained to acquire
knowledge of every type, sparing no expense or time in our
education, I realized one failing in the year I spent away from
Xane. I did not know how to pilot a ship. As exalted guests, we
Jiikorians expect to be ferried to our destinations, chauffeured at
our whim, transportation at our beck and call. I suppose any of us
could have piloted a ship in an emergency. But to set a course for
a distant location and manage all operations required a level of
expertise I felt I did not have.

Normally if I found a deficit in my
knowledge, I would travel to the system best-suited to educate me
to fill that void. I would have spent years training to become a
brilliantly proficient pilot. But I felt I did not have the luxury
of that much time. So I spent the time instead in the Yar gardens,
simulating the experience, drawing upon the collective knowledge of
Jiikorians, half-blood and pure-blood alike.

There wasn’t enough collective knowledge so
I asked Jurig to teach me. He may have wondered why I wanted to
know, but he indulged me just the same. I learned only how to fly
his ship and not Yarian vessels, but I am resourceful and creative.
So when I overpowered the crew, including my security detail, and
placed them adrift in rescue capsules, I set about piloting a
Yarian ship to Xane’s planet and I had no trouble.

And what of Jurig, you might ask? Did I
simply use him and then abandon him for my own ends? I was not his
exclusive lover, I have no doubt of that. And I do not believe I
broke his heart if that is what you are wondering. But I can see
how you might think so based on what I have told you. I will let
you draw your own conclusions since I really do not know.

But as to my story, Xane’s planet is far
away, in the remotest corner of the galaxy. When I arrived, I did
not anticipate the security measures He would have in place and I
drew upon all of my negotiating skills to be admitted.

Once I landed, they indeed recognized me,
but did not know what to do with me. For all I knew, He had moved
someone into my old room. A year is a long time.

They finally found a place for me and I
waited there for two long weeks. That is not much time for a Yarian
but it seemed to stretch like an eternity. Finally, he returned. I
knew it from the talk on the planet although he did not come to me
for another week. And even when He did, things did not go at all as
I had expected.

I knelt before Him on a cold, hard stone
floor, my hands behind me, my back painfully straight, my head
bowed. I was not allowed to rest on my heels as he usually
preferred, but he had instructed me to stand up on my knees.

I was very remorseful and told him so. He
listened without comment to my long speech and explanation until I
finally fell silent, having no more words to speak, optimistic and
hopeful for his forgiveness.

“You still wear my collar.”

It was an observation. I was not meant to
respond. I was sure I detected a note of coldness and detachment in
his voice that chilled my very blood. My mouth suddenly felt very
dry.

“Do you deserve to still wear it?”

There was no mistaking the harsh
indifference of his tone now.

I was stricken by the question. I had
refused to let anyone remove it. Should I have removed it myself?
Was I still worthy of it? I had never thought about it, wanting so
much for it be always a part of me. I considered my answer.

“I want to deserve to wear it, sir,” I said
in a voice much smaller than my normal way of speaking.

He left me there then without another word,
kneeling as I was on the rock floor. How long I could not say, but
I was numb with pain, almost in a trance, by the time he returned
and three cycles of light and dark had passed through the small
window.

“Rise, little one,” I finally heard through
my stupor.

I struggled to stand, weak, dizzy. I nearly
collapsed as my muscles failed to support me, but he caught me and
turned me around gently, holding me up with his strong arms. I had
almost forgotten how tall he was, I am so used to looking down at
men. Then he lifted me up and laid me gently in a tub filled with
soft water from the mineral springs that abounded on his planet.
Three beautiful girls came and attended to me. When I next looked
up, he was gone. Their ministrations were exquisite and they
massaged every muscle, large and small, in my body, while soothing
my aches with gel made from scented grasses.

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