His to Conquer (Alien Masters Book 3) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Additional Books in the Alien Masters Series

  More Stormy Night Books by Kallista Dane

  Kallista Dane Links

  His to Conquer

  By

  Kallista Dane

  Copyright © 2015 by Stormy Night Publications and Kallista Dane

  Copyright © 2015 by Stormy Night Publications and Kallista Dane

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.

  www.StormyNightPublications.com

  Dane, Kallista

  His to Conquer

  Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

  Images by Period Images, Bigstock/Leonid Tit, and Bigstock/Forplayday

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults.

  Prologue

  She panted for breath, chest heaving, then flinched when a rough hand pinched her bare nipple, twisting it cruelly between two fingers. She’d learned by now not to cry out or resist in any way. It would only make things far worse.

  “This one would make a particularly fine addition to any collection.” The voice seemed to come from far away. “High-spirited, still a little wild, ready for the right master to tame to fit his own—shall we say—unique needs and desires.”

  She shuddered as the hand swept her hair off her shoulders while prodding her with a stiff knuckle in the middle of her back, reminding her to thrust her breasts forward as she’d been taught to do when being presented.

  She shivered on the platform, naked save for an elaborate golden belt around her waist. It had been specially made for her, with a wide strap made of supple leather hanging from it that fit snugly between her legs, then narrowed and ran up between her bottom cheeks, fastening to the belt in back. She’d endured several highly invasive and humiliating fittings for it over the last few days, performed by both her male and female trainers. Although at this point that seemed mild in comparison with the other torments she’d been subjected to.

  “Note the golden mantle,” the voice went on. “It has been eons since we featured one of these at an auction. A sign that this female has not been used. Ever. Her trainers have examined her and guarantee it.”

  Her eyes swept over the crowded hall, widening in horror. She’d never seen creatures such as these. Some had insect-like heads sticking up out of segmented bodies covered in an armor-like shell. Other beings shrouded themselves entirely, leaving only their eyes exposed—their eyes and their penises, jutting arrogantly forward out of openings in their shrouds, like snakes. Writhing and twisting when they saw her, their ardor aroused.

  She lowered her gaze, afraid if she saw any more, she’d collapse on the floor, screaming.

  “Turn around.” Though whispered, the command was still harsh.

  She turned slowly, her back to the room, and heard a roar of approval from the spectators. She flushed as she realized they were reacting to the red stripes still visible on her bottom from the whipping she’d received earlier. Her trainer held up the long strap made from a mastodon penis. It whistled through the air, landing on her bottom with a satisfying crack. The crowd cheered.

  Chapter One

  Star Portals have existed since the beginning of time. Doorways between worlds in this galaxy—and others. They are found on Earth at the convergence of ley lines, those invisible electromagnetic paths crisscrossing our globe. Our ancestors discovered them thousands of years ago and used them to travel to the farthest reaches of the Universe.

  Flourishing ancient civilizations didn’t die out. The people of Atlantis, the Vikings, the Mayans—when tragedy struck their homelands, they simply migrated through the Portals to places where fresh water flowed, crops grew abundantly, and the climate was nearly perfect.

  Human beings descended from our common ancestors are alive today on a trio of planets thousands of light years away. Islands of stability in the universe where vast quantities of natural resources and rare minerals abound.

  Neodyma. Iridia. And the icy world farthest from the warmth of the twin suns Phalyx and Zalyx—Gadolinium.

  * * *

  Gadolinium, 2723 A.D.

  Chaos. Everywhere. Throngs of people running through the streets. Screams and shouts mingling with the harsh clang of sword against sword.

  Talia shrank behind the stone column marking the entrance to the Portal. A few feet away, Nelson’s lifeless body lay in a crumpled heap. There was no sign of the others.

  She’d been last to enter the Portal for transport to Gadolinium. Her entourage had gone ahead so they could formally present her to the king’s representatives when she arrived. But no welcoming statesmen awaited her when she stepped through on the other side. The Portal stood unguarded, the room empty save for Nelson’s body. The worn stone pavers at her feet bore ominous red stains. She feared the worst for the other members of her party.

  Talia crept forward, staying out of sight. She’d been fitted with the usual Tellex chip before leaving Earth, allowing her to both understand and speak in any language after only a short time of exposure to it. But even with that device, she couldn’t understand more than a few shouted words in the din outside.

  Invasion. Surrender. Lord something. Balam? She mentally reviewed all the information she’d studied for months preparing for this diplomatic posting. There’d been no hint of trouble looming. King Sigrun was widely regarded as a just and fair ruler on Gadolinium. His subjects were an ancient tribe of humans, descended from Viking warriors who discovered the Star Portal to Gadolinium during their voyages nearly two thousand years ago.

  They had stayed true to the old ways, even after being introduced to the concept of modern technology. The team of scientific researchers originally sent from Earth through the newly rediscovered Portal had told them about the marvels that had been invented to make life easier. Of course, since modern machines and equipment couldn’t survive the journey intact, the technological advances Earthers described were treated as entertaining myths by the locals. Horse-drawn carts and sailing ships took them anywhere they wanted to go. And from what she’d learned, a roaring fire in the Great Hall, a fresh mug of ale, and a buxom wench bouncing on a lap were the only comforts the Gadolinean rulers cared about.

  Talia knew that compared to the civilization she’d left behind, these people were no better than savages. They solved minor disputes with hand-to-hand combat, slaughtered and ate the flesh of animals and then wore their skins to keep warm. They still engaged in the ancient practice of sexual intercourse for purposes of procreation, even indulging in person-to-person contact merely for physical gratification, rather than using far more efficient cyborgs or mechanical devices. She’d been warned that she’d be exposed to numerous types of bodily contact, that it was part of the culture here. But the directors assured her that as Gadolinean ambassador from Earth, she would never have to endure any unwanted invasion of her personal space.

  Talia watched a hulk of a warrior wearing nothing but a loincloth and a fur cloak tossed over his shoulders catch a screami
ng woman as she fled down the lane alone. He put a dagger to her throat and dragged her into a dark alley between two stone buildings on the other side of the wide street. He grabbed a fistful of her hair and shoved her to her knees. Talia dashed toward the doorway, ready to spring to the woman’s rescue, then stopped dead in her tracks. Without a weapon, she was powerless. The man would slit the throat of his captive first, then turn his knife on her—probably after forcing her to perform the same disgusting act.

  Talia choked down a hysterical cry as the thought popped into her head. She’d have to hunt down a pen and paper and send a stern letter through the Portal to the directors, informing them that this uprising had just rendered all their assurances worthless.

  She looked down at her traveling garb—flowing purple silk robe with a gold sash around the waist, chosen to instantly telegraph her status as an important figure to this primitive culture. Now it would make her stand out as a wealthy potential hostage to whoever was behind this revolt. She knelt and murmured an apology to her dead assistant. Then, gritting her teeth, she pulled Nelson’s body into a shadowy corner of the building and stripped the dark gray traveling cloak from him. Thick wool, with a hood to cover her long hair, it would protect her from the harsh climate of Gadolinium as well as hiding her female form under its shapeless folds.

  She hiked the purple robe up above her knees, tucking it into the sash to hold it in place. Cringing, she drew the cloak over her head, trying to ignore the clammy feel of the damp spot where Nelson’s blood had soaked through. Thankfully, he’d been a few inches taller than her six foot height, so the cloak covered her generous curves from head to toe. Her body, although average in height for a female, didn’t fit the current Earth standards of physical perfection. Genetically, she was an anomaly among the slender, willowy forms back home. A throwback to her ancestors, full-bodied females with lush breasts meant to nurse hungry babies and wide hips on which to perch the chubby toddlers they’d soon become.

  Nursing babies? Chubby toddlers? She didn’t know where those odd thoughts kept coming from. She’d had them often since being informed of her posting to Gadolinium. Odd thoughts popping into her head from the strange dreams. Dreams that made her wake with her pulse pounding, leaving her tossing and turning, sleepless for the rest of the night. Images of a faceless stranger who undressed her slowly, his tangled dark hair brushing against the skin of her naked breasts as he bent his head to kiss them. And then he’d sink to his knees and…

  Enough. Talia shook her head, annoyed. She needed to keep her wits about her. She had no time to dwell on dreams, no matter how strangely arousing they were. She glanced back at the Portal, torn for a moment. It would be so easy to step back through. Despite the danger another transport in such a short time might pose to her body, she’d be safely at home, where any damage could be easily repaired.

  But her sense of duty prevailed. Years of sacrifice, of training, of service to the InterStellar Federation outweighed any concern for her personal well-being. She had a mission to accomplish. She’d been sent to Gadolinium as the first diplomatic envoy from Earth and she’d never be able to hold her head up back home if she turned tail and ran at the first sign of trouble. At the very least she needed to stay long enough to find out what was happening and then go back to the directors with a full report.

  She hid in the shadows of the Portal chamber, out of sight, for what seemed like hours until the commotion in the street died away. Talia tucked a few wayward strands of golden brown hair behind her ears and drew the hood of the cloak further over her head to hide her face as much as possible. Then, heart pounding, she took a few hesitant steps forward, away from the shelter of the Portal chamber and into the street.

  There was no one in sight. Moving as silently as possible, she hurried to the end of the street and turned a corner.

  Her stomach recoiled. Two more dead bodies lay up ahead, rivers of blood running from their bodies to pool in cracks between the paving stones. A severed arm lay next to one of them, the lifeless hand still clutching a dagger. Talia had never been exposed to raw violence before. Of course, she’d studied history’s most famous battles, recreated holographically as part of her training at the academy. And, truth be told, watching Cyborg Wars was her one secret vice. But cyborgs didn’t shed blood and any damage they sustained could be swiftly repaired. The sight of this carnage was almost enough to send her scurrying back down the block toward the entrance to the Portal chamber.

  Too late. A glance around the corner told her that avenue of escape was gone. Three more half-naked savages headed up the street patrolling the area, probably on the lookout for anyone they missed on the first sweep. They disappeared through the doorway that led into the chamber. She drew the dark cloak tighter around her and tried to blend into the shadows, turning her head away and hugging the sides of the buildings as she hurried past the fallen bodies.

  She forced herself to stay calm as she tried to recall the virtual city she’d walked through so many times to prepare for this posting. Three blocks ahead, the road she traveled intersected a wide avenue leading to King Sigrun’s palace. Surely the king’s guards would have protected him and his home. If she could make it there, she’d be safe and she could find out what had happened to throw the city into turmoil.

  She hunched over, trying to look small and unthreatening. Twice, she had to duck into buildings to avoid being spotted by roving teams of invaders in the distance. Of the local citizens, there was no sign. Only empty houses. In one, an overturned table, the broken remnants of crockery still bearing a half-eaten meal scattered on the floor. Her heart sank. Trondheim was the capital city, home to thousands of Gadolineans. Yet all she’d seen so far of the residents were two dead bodies—and that hapless female who might be dead by now as well for all she knew.

  The attackers didn’t look anything like the descriptions she’d been given of the local population. The men she’d seen so far were short and squat, with deep-set eyes, flat noses, and coarse black hair. Nothing like fair-haired Nordic stock that had settled this world. Where had the intruders come from? And what had they done with all the townspeople?

  She picked up her pace. Darkness came early here. Though she welcomed the cover it afforded, Talia drew the cloak tighter around her neck, shivering violently as the temperature plunged even further.

  Back on Earth, she lived in New Delphi, a sprawling modern city protected by an invisible dome that covered hundreds of square miles of the North American continent. The temperature varied a mere ten degrees between day and night, year round. Artificial wind machines kicked on at irregular intervals, creating mild breezes and keeping the atmosphere from becoming monotonous. The occasional gentle shower, always preprogrammed, became cause for celebration. Children would often pour out of their homes to frolic in the soft rain.

  Beyond the dome, storms still raged on Earth. As a schoolgirl, she’d visited the observation tower on the 341st floor of the Science Center. She and her classmates took turns looking through a high-powered scope to view the crumbling ruins of cities outside, destroyed by hurricanes, floods, and tornadoes or wiped away by the rising seas, centuries before the domes had been erected.

  This city had no dome. It was fully exposed to the whims of nature. Talia cursed the streak of vanity that led her to refuse a cylerian—the head-to-toe synthetic suit that fit like a second skin and protected the wearer from all extremes of weather. She’d reasoned that her time in the harsh climate upon arrival would be minimal. A few short steps between the doorway to the Portal chamber and the horse-drawn carriage awaiting her, then a few more steps outdoors at the entrance of the palace, which would surely be well-heated. She didn’t want to lose face right off the bat wearing what amounted to a set of long underwear in front of the hearty Gadolineans.

  But as the third planet in this solar system, farthest from its twin suns Phalyx and Zalyx, the climate here was brutal. She couldn’t understand how its people bore the bone-chilling cold for the majority
of the time it took for the planet to complete its orbit. Apparently they had a respite for a few short months when Gadolinium drew near enough to heat its surface to a temperature suitable to grow crops and shed heavy outer garments. But that season was still months away. She’d only been on this wretched planet for a few hours and already she was regretting her impulsive gesture in volunteering for a two-year posting.

  Of course, she might be heading home to Earth tomorrow, depending on what she found out when she arrived at the palace and had an opportunity to speak to someone—anyone—about the situation.

  Lights blazed in the distance. She picked up her pace, almost running as she imagined soaking in a hot bath and sipping an even hotter cup of tea in the quarters awaiting her.

  That’s when it happened. A rough pair of arms seized her from behind, yanking her into a dark alley. Two hands circled her chest, pinning her arms at her sides. Talia fought wildly, writhing and twisting. She heard a muffled oath as the man’s fingers sank into the full breasts hidden under her cloak.

  A low voice muttered in her ear, stopping her cold. She’d studied the language long enough that even without the Tellex chip she’d have understood the words.

  “What in the name of Odin’s beard are you doing out here?”

  She struggled to break free, but the arms tightened around her like a vise. She hadn’t been this close to another human being since she was a babe in arms. Trapped. Unable to move. Panic set in.

  Talia didn’t stop to think. She drew in a breath and screamed at the top of her lungs. One of the hands immediately let go of her breast and clapped over her mouth.

  The low voice cursed again. “You little fool. Shut up. I’m not one of them.” He dragged her deeper into the shadowy alcove. “Be quiet or you’ll draw them here.”