“The spank­ing is too de­mean­ing, or the plea­sure you’d show from be­ing spanked?” Cla­jak asked, en­joy­ing him­self. His rhythm quick­ened, and she caught her breath.

  “Spank me in pri­vate, if you want. I won’t fight,” Jes­sica whis­pered. Her de­sire spiked at her words. Damn it, why did she like such things? “You said if I agreed to go to Kalquor and take a clan, you wouldn’t make me do more than this in pub­lic.”

  “Yes I did,” Cla­jak agreed, his eyes bright with tri­umph. Star­ing into her face he called, “Is­rala, I need you to bear wit­ness to this Earther’s in­ten­tions.”

  Sound­ing breath­less, Is­rala’s voice drifted to them. “State your in­ten­tions, Jes­sica McIn­ness.”

  Hat­ing her­self for not be­ing stronger, Jes­sica swal­lowed hard. She said, “I agree to go to Kalquor and join a clan as their Matara.”

  “Ac­knowl­edged.”

  It wasn’t good enough for Cla­jak. “By her own state­ment, Jes­sica McIn­ness be­comes a cit­i­zen of Kalquor, which makes her a sub­ject of the royal mem­bers of the Em­pire.”

  “Agreed,” Is­rala groaned.

  “As her sov­er­eign, I take per­sonal cus­tody of her.” Cla­jak grinned at Jes­sica’s gasp. “She will stay with my clan, sub­ject to our bid­ding un­til a suit­able clan has been lo­cated for her on Kalquor. Do you rec­og­nize my rights over Jes­sica McIn­ness, Saucin Is­rala?”

  Be­fore Jes­sica could protest, Be­vau shoved a flower in her face. Egilka held her head still, forc­ing her to in­hale the sweet per­fume of the bloom. Her body clenched with on­com­ing or­gasm.

  “What­ever you want, Cla­jak. Keep her in chains if you like.” Is­rala’s state­ment ended in a lit­tle scream.

  Jes­sica’s shock couldn’t over­come her body’s re­sponse to the aphro­disiac or what Cla­jak did to her. He an­gled him­self as Egilka had, mak­ing his cock rub the best part of her ea­ger sex.

  “Mine for now,” Cla­jak whis­pered as she drew in a lung­ful of the flower’s scent, ready­ing to scream her body’s re­lease. “And I will take ev­ery ad­van­tage pos­si­ble un­til I have to give you up.”

  He laughed as Jes­sica bucked in help­less cli­max be­neath him.

  Chap­ter 9

  “It’s time to eat,” Egilka an­nounced, car­ry­ing a tray from the kitchen area. Jes­sica watched him ap­proach from the pile of pil­lows she nested in. She curled in a ball, her knees and head sup­port­ing her weight. The gag in her mouth kept her from re­spond­ing.

  Egilka sank down to sit next to her and placed the tray on the floor. “Do you wish her to re­main bound?” he asked Be­vau.

  The Nobek opened one eye. He rested in the basin, the wa­ter swirling around his carved ab­domen. He nod­ded, his beau­ti­ful mouth curl­ing in a slow smile. “Please.”

  Egilka chuck­led and un­tied the gag, care­fully re­mov­ing it. Jes­sica licked her dry lips. “Wa­ter,” she croaked.

  “Let me get you in a bet­ter po­si­tion,” he an­swered. He turned her over onto her back be­fore pick­ing her up and set­tling her on his naked thighs.

  Each of Jes­sica’s wrists was tied to an an­kle, keep­ing her help­less. Be­vau hadn’t tied her an­kles to­gether, al­low­ing him to spread her legs wide for his many en­tries.

  She hissed at the sore­ness of her but­tocks ly­ing on Egilka’s leg. Be­vau had spanked her soundly that morn­ing to their mu­tual plea­sure. She had cli­maxed the in­stant he en­tered her af­ter the dis­ci­pline.

  Egilka shook his head. “I wish you’d let me put some­thing on that. Your ass is red enough to glow in the dark.”

  “The bet­ter for you to find me,” Jes­sica teased. “Where’s my wa­ter?”

  “Here.” He tipped the cup to her mouth, and she gulped. She liked the gag and how it in­creased her vul­ner­a­bil­ity to the whims of her sex­ual part­ners, but it dried her mouth out.

  When Jes­sica fin­ished slurp­ing, Egilka fed her. She took each morsel del­i­cately from his fin­gers. The minty herbal desrel, the meaty chunks of ronka, and the sweet nel­lus berries were a de­light­ful feast af­ter the work­out Be­vau had sub­jected her to.

  “How is it?” Egilka asked.

  “Good,” she said be­tween mouth­fuls. “I’m starved.”

  He chuck­led. “I imag­ine so. Be­vau kept you busy all morn­ing.”

  “I’m not done with her yet,” the Nobek an­nounced.

  Jes­sica’s lower re­gions flexed at the las­civ­i­ous glare he gave her. She’d been the clan’s guest for the two days fol­low­ing the fes­ti­val, and they’d done lit­tle else but de­light her body in ways she’d never imag­ined pos­si­ble. She’d been wary at first, but lit­tle by lit­tle she’d let her guard down. She was now their will­ing play­mate, ea­ger to ex­pe­ri­ence any­thing they wished to try.

  Jes­sica had dis­cov­ered some­thing amaz­ing that she’d only guessed when the clan had taken her at the fes­ti­val. By serv­ing them in any way they wished and com­pletely sub­mit­ting to their whims, she ruled them all. The more they de­manded and the more she gave, the more the men served her in re­turn.

  The Kalquo­ri­ans cooked for her. They fed her. They bathed her, brushed her hair, and mas­saged tight mus­cles. They wouldn’t ac­cept their own sex­ual re­leases un­til she had at least two of her own. In en­slav­ing her, they were en­slaved them­selves.

  None of them had left the clan’s suite since re­turn­ing from the fes­ti­val. Only two calls from Ko­rkla had in­ter­rupted their soli­tude, calls from which Jes­sica gleaned Michaela had moved in with her clan and was be­ing ser­viced as well as Jes­sica was with Cla­jak’s.

  The ma­jor dif­fer­ence was Michaela was stay­ing per­ma­nently with the clan she wanted to be with. Jes­sica only bor­rowed this one.

  Cla­jak wan­dered in naked, his eyes blink­ing as he left the dark­ness of the sleep­ing room. He scowled at Be­vau. “Maybe you’ll let some­one else have a turn,” he said, hav­ing heard the Nobek’s com­ment. His penises jut­ted straight out from his body.

  His clan­mate shrugged. “She can take us both. From the looks of things, she might have to take all three at once.”

  Jes­sica glanced down and ogled the sight of Egilka’s readi­ness. She pre­tended fa­tigue. “Tell me it’s the nov­elty of Earther sex. If the clan I end up with is like you, I’ll be numb from the waist down within a week.”

  Did the men ex­change un­happy looks, or was it just wish­ful think­ing on her part?

  Be­vau flicked wa­ter, his gor­geous face gri­mac­ing. “If you knew what our Matara-to-be was like, you wouldn’t be­grudge us these few days of joy.”

  Jes­sica’s heart skipped a beat. “Don’t clan Nar­pok if she’s so hor­ri­ble. What’s the good of be­ing fu­ture em­per­ors if you can’t make the rules?”

  Cla­jak joined them on the mound of pil­lows. He sighed heav­ily as he stroked her hair. “Per­sonal gain can­not en­ter the pic­ture if it’s not good for all.”

  “How is hav­ing a mis­er­able Im­pe­rial Clan good for your planet?” Jes­sica pointed out.

  Cla­jak smiled at her, but his ex­pres­sion was sad. “Not clan­ning Nar­pok would make us pow­er­ful en­e­mies. Her fa­ther is the head coun­cil­man, and he would take it as a per­sonal in­sult if we refuse her. Such a rift be­tween the royal fam­ily and the coun­cil could in­vite se­ri­ous trou­ble for all of Kalquor.”

  Jes­sica bowed her head, not want­ing him to see her face. “So Nar­pok is one of the few Kalquo­rian fe­males able to bear chil­dren?”

  Egilka tossed the empty tray to­wards the kitchen area. It clat­tered against the stone floor. He kissed the top of Jes­sica’s head. “Tests thus far have in­di­cated Nar­pok may be fer­tile. We won’t know for sure un­til one of her eggs is har­vested and eval­u­ated.”

  “When will that hap­pen?” Jes­sica asked. Her real ques­tion was how much longer do I have with the three of you?

  Cla­jak’s hon­eyed voice was heavy with bit­ter­ness. “Her yearly ovu­la­tion should oc­cur any time now. The fi­nal test is the last bar­rier to her join­ing our clan.”

  Be­vau stood over them, drip­ping from his bath. “Once fer­til­ity is con­firmed, she will be made our Matara.”

  “And if she’s not able to have chil­dren?”

  “There are eigh­teen other pos­si­ble mates, all of which are con­firmed vi­able.”

  “Oh.” Jes­sica made her ex­pres­sion bland and looked up at Egilka. “At least the royal line will re­main pure Kalquo­rian for an­other gen­er­a­tion.”

  He gri­maced and looked away. “I sup­pose that will be worth the sac­ri­fice.”

  Be­vau huffed. “The day our im­pris­on­ment be­gins with that frigid crea­ture has not yet ar­rived, and I don’t want to waste a mo­ment think­ing about Nar­pok. You have fin­ished your meal, I see.” He stroked his ea­ger flesh as he eyed Jes­sica.

  Jes­sica stared at his rigid cocks, her tongue peek­ing out to lick her lips. “The food is gone, but I’m still hun­gry.”

  Egilka picked her up, ris­ing on his knees as he lifted her. Cla­jak moved be­hind her, sand­wich­ing her be­tween the two men. Jes­sica’s head fell back on his shoul­der, her eyes clos­ing in an­tic­i­pa­tory de­light.

  Egilka en­tered her with both of his sex or­gans, fill­ing her to burst­ing. Cla­jak’s larger cock pressed into her anus. She shud­dered with the won­der­ful ache as he in­vaded the tight ori­fice. Her body soft­ened to them, wel­com­ing the glo­ri­ous dom­i­nance she craved. She loved the feel­ing of be­ing crammed full and of feel­ing them slip in and out with a fric­tion that in­stantly lit her belly with gor­geous fire.

  Strong hands gripped her head, turn­ing her face to the side. Jes­sica opened her mouth, know­ing Be­vau was there to feed her vo­ra­cious ap­petite for oral pen­e­tra­tion. His pe­nis ran over her tongue, rubbed against the roof of her mouth, and reached deep to touch her throat. She moaned at the taste of the cin­na­mon-sweet lu­bri­cant he se­creted.

  “Her ass is still warm from Be­vau’s spank­ing,” Cla­jak grunted to his clan­mates. “It feels good to bury my­self there.”

  “Did you hear her moan?” Be­vau asked, stroking in and out of her ac­cept­ing mouth. “Pain and be­ing dom­i­nated is as erotic to her as any plea­sure. Jes­sica is such a gift.”

  Egilka growled some­thing in his own lan­guage. Be­vau and Cla­jak mo­men­tar­ily lost their rhythm, and Jes­sica whim­pered in protest. Hav­ing all three men em­bed­ded in her help­less body was be­yond bliss. She wanted noth­ing to stop the plea­sure.

  Cla­jak re­sponded to his Imdiko in Kalquo­rian, his voice sharp. He thrust harder than ever into her nar­row pas­sage, and Jes­sica writhed with min­gled pain and plea­sure.

  “Since when do you care about your duty?” Egilka mut­tered, speak­ing in Plasian once more.

  “Since when do you toss it aside?” Cla­jak shot back.

  “Dis­cuss it later,” Be­vau said. “There is a warm, wet mouth suck­ing on me, and I’m not ref­er­ee­ing an ar­gu­ment right now!”

  Jes­sica rubbed her tongue on the un­der­side of his driv­ing pe­nis to re­ward him for set­ting the other two straight. The Nobek groaned, his fin­gers tight­en­ing their grip in her hair. She clenched her lower re­gions around the other two men, de­ter­mined to drive all thoughts not con­nected with fuck­ing her out of their heads. Their min­gled gasps and strength­ened thrusts let her know she’d suc­ceeded.

  What­ever dis­pute had erupted within the clan didn’t arise again dur­ing the glo­ri­ous love­mak­ing. The only con­ver­sa­tion con­sisted of whis­pers telling her of how beau­ti­ful her body was, how soft her skin, how warm her var­i­ous open­ings, how much they loved fuck­ing her. Jes­sica rose and fell on Cla­jak and Egilka’s co­or­di­nated thrusts, cry­ing out around Be­vau’s driv­ing flesh when or­gasm swept through her loins once, twice, three times.

  The men came as one, their min­gled cries of plea­sure ring­ing in Jes­sica’s ears. She swal­lowed Be­vau’s thick stream as the other two pulsed their seed into her nether re­gions. She won­dered what would hap­pen if they got her preg­nant. Kalquor was too des­per­ate for chil­dren to not let her carry a child to full term. Would that al­low her to con­tinue in some ca­pac­ity with Cla­jak’s clan? If not, would it hurt her chances to find a clan of her own?

  Think­ing of what the fu­ture held, of be­ing with men other than the three fill­ing her flesh with theirs, made tears spring to Jes­sica’s eyes. How could she give her­self to an­other clan when she had fallen in love with this one?

  * * * *

  Cla­jak sat in the basin, wish­ing the swirling warm wa­ter would erase his ten­sion. Usu­ally cli­max re­laxed him for hours, es­pe­cially when the sex had been so sat­is­fy­ing.

  Egilka’s shock­ing state­ment while they’d en­joyed Jes­sica had taken the usual re­pose away. Cla­jak tried to wrap his mind around the Imdiko’s bizarre turn­around. The same man who’d been so adamantly op­posed to breed­ing with Earth­ers only days be­fore had stated he would clan with no woman but Jes­sica McIn­ness!

  The Dramok stared at the lit­tle Earther, now un­bound and sleep­ing on her nest of pil­lows. A slight frown touched Jes­sica’s fea­tures as she slum­bered. Cla­jak hoped she wasn’t hav­ing an­other of her fre­quent night­mares, es­pe­cially the ones that made her scream for help. Some­times she cried for her mother and fa­ther, some­times for some­one named Nicole. Most of the time she screamed for her older sis­ter Lind­sey, her voice that of a ter­ri­fied child. Jes­sica swore she couldn’t re­mem­ber the dreams, but Cla­jak won­dered.

  He re­laxed when her mouth curled in a slight smile, the crease be­tween her eye­brows eas­ing. She looked so sweet lay­ing there, her tiny hand curled next to her cheek, ten­drils of her long chest­nut hair fall­ing over her fore­head. Cla­jak’s heart thumped painfully.

  “Tell me you can stand to see her with an­other clan,” Egilka said from his seat on the lounger. His eyes were sharp on Cla­jak.

  “It doesn’t mat­ter what I feel for her,” the Dramok snapped back. “We have promised our­selves to a Matara back on Kalquor, and we’re bound to honor our re­spon­si­bil­i­ties to her and our peo­ple.”

  “Then you ad­mit you feel some­thing for Jes­sica,” Egilka said. “That’s more than you’ve ever ex­pressed for any woman.”

  Cla­jak stared at him, wish­ing he could deny his clan­mate’s as­sess­ment. In the end, he could only re­peat, “It doesn’t mat­ter.”

  “It should. I for one do not rel­ish the idea of spend­ing the re­main­ing 175 years of my life with Nar­pok. Be­ing younger, you’re stuck with her even longer.”

  “Even with our sci­ence and med­i­cal means, Jes­sica will only live an­other 125 years,” Cla­jak pointed out. “Fifty years is a long time to mourn when she’s gone.”

  “Bet­ter to have two-thirds a life­time of joy than a full life­time of mis­ery. Be­sides, new med­i­cal dis­cov­er­ies might ex­tend her life longer. It’s trial enough ex­ist­ing with Nar­pok on the same planet. Hav­ing her in my home day in and out is a sen­tence suit­able for crim­i­nals.”

  “Why do you think I in­sist on leav­ing Kalquor so of­ten?” Cla­jak grouched.

  “We won’t have that op­tion once we’re clanned with her. Any­where we go, she goes.” Egilka’s gaze strayed to Jes­sica. “I can’t do it, Cla­jak. Not when this gift has fallen into our pos­ses­sion.”

  “It’s out of the ques­tion, my Imdiko. Be­vau, he never lis­tens to me. Talk some sense into him.”

  Be­vau, splayed on the op­po­site end of the lounger from Egilka, had sat silently through the en­tire con­ver­sa­tion. Now he took a deep breath, ob­vi­ously steel­ing him­self for the com­ing ar­gu­ment.

  “I too wish to make Jes­sica our Matara.”

  Cla­jak stiff­ened. “Have you gone mad as well? Pwal­dur would set the en­tire coun­cil against us! It would be civil war!”

  “I think you ex­ag­ger­ate. Over half the coun­cil has now claimed Earther Mataras. Not only that, but Pwal­dur is not the most pop­u­lar man in coun­cil cham­bers. There are those who wouldn’t mind tak­ing him down a few steps.”

  Cla­jak jumped up and stepped out of the basin. He an­grily tow­eled him­self off. “He’s head coun­cil­man with the sense to in­volve him­self in projects that make him pop­u­lar with the com­mon Kalquo­rian. He’s al­ready got strong sup­port for go­ing to open war with Earth in or­der to se­cure more Mataras.”

  “So how can he ar­gue against our tak­ing an Earther Matara for our own?”

  “Re­fus­ing his hate­ful daugh­ter will be an in­sult Pwal­dur won’t bear. You know that, damn it!” Cla­jak stormed into his pri­vate room. He yanked a form­suit on.

  Be­vau’s ar­gu­ment was in­fu­ri­at­ing in its logic, and Cla­jak was an­gry at his clan­mate for rais­ing the slight­est hope of keep­ing Jes­sica for them­selves. It was im­pos­si­ble; there were too many bar­ri­ers to con­sider it.

  Cla­jak pulled his boots on. He had to get out of the suite, away from clan­mates who had lost all sense in the pres­ence of the al­lur­ing Earther.

  Egilka ap­peared in the door­way. Fully clothed, Cla­jak ap­proached him. “I don’t want to talk about this any­more. Get out of my way.”

  “Of course, my Dramok.” The Imdiko stepped aside, his ex­pres­sion care­fully blank. “But what it comes down to, Cla­jak, is we think Jes­sica is worth fight­ing for. Deep down, you do too.”

  Cla­jak left the suite with­out a word.

  * * * *

  Is­rala’s lovely aide ush­ered Cla­jak into the Saucin’s of­fice, her mar­bled black eyes rak­ing over his body with ob­vi­ous plea­sure. Nor­mally, the prince would have taken the op­por­tu­nity to en­joy a ready Plasian mouth, but be­ing with Jes­sica the last two days made such pur­suits pale in com­par­i­son.

 

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