Assigned a Mate

By: Grace Goodwin

Chapter One





My mind was fuzzy, as if I was just waking up or had too much alcohol in my system. But the fog was quickly chased away by sensation. I was naked and bent forward over some sort of hard bench. My breasts swayed below me with each powerful thrust of a man’s cock deep into me. The stretching heat forced a moan from my throat and I closed my eyes to relish the way my tight pussy clenched and spasmed around his thick length. He stood behind me and I longed to see his face, to know who could give me such pleasure.

“She appears to like being fucked in such a manner. Most do not like being bent over and secured to a stand.” A deep male voice spoke from somewhere behind me, but I was too distracted by the rough glide of the massive cock in and out of my body to look for him. He wasn’t the man fucking me, and so he was nothing to me. Nothing. Only my master mattered.

Master? Where had that thought come from?

“Yes, her pussy is incredibly tight and dripping wet. Do you like being taken like this, gara?” The second voice was even deeper and came from behind me, directly behind me.

He had asked me a question, but all I could do was groan at the way he spread me unbelievably wide. I’d never been speared by a cock this size. The hard heat bottomed out deep inside me with each hard slap of his hips against my ass. The sound of skin against skin, of my wetness easing his powerful passage, filled the room. He changed his angle, his hard head rubbing somewhere deep inside and I whimpered. His cock was like a weapon, a tool I was powerless to fight.

How had I gotten here? The last thing I remembered was being on Earth, in the processing center.

Now I was tied to some type of four-legged stand, my ankles bound to one side and my hands tied to small handles attached to the other. It was narrow enough that my breasts hung down, allowing something I couldn’t see to tug on my nipples. The pain and pleasure combination was like an electrical current sent directly to my clit and I gasped at the sharp sensation. With every deep thrust, my clit ground against something hard beneath me, something that moved with me as his cock pounded into me. The vibrations under my clit caused an orgasm to build until I felt like a ticking time bomb. Sweat broke out on my skin and I clung to the stand as if it were the only thing keeping me from flying away. I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to survive the explosion.

“She is squeezing my cock,” the man growled and his motions became less methodical, as if he was losing his fight against his baser needs to rut into me.

“Good. Make her come hard so she will soften and accept your seed. You should be able to breed her without delay.”

Breed?

I opened my mouth to ask what they were talking about, but that huge cock slammed into me and a warm hand came to rest on the back of my neck, holding me down, even though I could go nowhere. I felt it as a symbolic gesture, that I was under his control and could do nothing. I should have screamed or fought, but that hand acted like an off switch and I held myself completely still, eager for his next thrust.

This moment, this man… surely it was nothing more than a dream. I would never have sex with someone else watching. I would never allow myself to be tied and bound in such a manner. Never. This couldn’t be real. I wouldn’t allow this base treatment. I was a physician, a healer. Highly respected and not without means. I was a woman with some power. I would never submit to this…

As if to mock me, he slammed into me with extra force and a strong hand landed with a sting on my bare ass cheek. The burn spread like hot butter melting into my flesh, the heat traveling in a straight line to my clit. He spanked me again and I clenched my teeth to hold back a scream of pleasure.

What was happening to me? I liked being spanked?

Another loud smack, another sting of pain, and tears leaked from my eyes as I fought to maintain my composure. I was a professional. I never surrendered to panic or pressure. Or pleasure. I never lost control.

Drawing on years of training and discipline, I forced my mind to take note of my surroundings. I did not recognize anything, not the soft amber lighting, the thick carpets on the floor, the oddly sand-colored walls, or the scent of almonds and something strangely exotic that drifted to me from my own skin. The shining reflection of my normally pale flesh made it appear that I’d been rubbed down with scented oil. That smell—and the sticky musk of fucking—floated around me in the warm air.

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