Slave for a Day Read online

  Slave for a Day

  A Sci-Fi Novella

  Jane Henry

  Contents

  Slave for a Day

  Untitled

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Preview of other sci-fi reads by Jane Henry

  About the Author

  Other titles by Jane you may enjoy:

  Slave for a Day

  Jane Henry

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

  Chapter 1

  Svali

  I hear the faintest patter of rain on the rooftop as I wake, a soothing, rhythmic sound that makes my heart soar. I breathe a prayer of thanksgiving to the gods. Avalere has needed rain for weeks.

  I open my eyes and look about me. My warrior husband Idan still sleeps, his chest rising and falling, one arm slung over his face. I turn on my side, taking advantage of this rare moment of staring at my husband without his knowledge.

  His face is relaxed, making him look younger than he does while awake. His auburn hair falls onto his forehead and pillow, the long length tied back at his nape. Even while he sleeps, there is a look of ferocity about him, due in part to the dark slashes of warrior markings at his neck and shoulders, the frown tucked into his beard, and his formidable size.

  He has a tender spot, though.

  Idan is a warrior of the Highest Order, Duke of Avalere, and in the past few years, he has taken command of the second throne in the east. He rules thousands, and the worries of our recent drought have worn on him. While he sleeps, the crease at his forehead softens, and he looks at peace, but I know that on the bedside table lie his sword belt, two swords, and his daggers. A warrior never truly rests.

  I run a finger along the fullness of his lips, his coarse, heavy beard, and down to his broad, muscled chest. Tracing gently so as not to wake him, I outline his sculpted muscles. His skin is warm. In the darkness, I am consumed with his scent, woodsmoke and leather. My breasts swell, and I pull my thighs together as my breath hitches. The mere sight of him arouses me. He has me well trained.

  “Why do you stare, lovely?” he asks. His voice, still heavy with sleep, sounds scratchy and deep. How does he know, with his eyes still closed? My husband misses nothing.

  I smile softly into the blue light of dawn. “I wasn’t staring at anything,” I deny, teasing him. “Do you think so much of yourself? And anyway, weren’t you asleep?”

  He growls, and his eyes open, focusing on me as his hands snake across the bedclothes and grasp my wrists.

  “Idan!” I protest. “You were just—ahhh!”

  He moves fast for a just-sleeping man.

  I am pinned beneath him, my wrists immobile by my sides, his huge body over mine as his eyes smolder. “Do not lie to me, Svali. After all this time, you do not know better than that?” His deep baritone resonates in the quiet.

  I huff out a breath, and with considerable effort, manage not to smile. “Better than what?”

  His mouth comes to my ear. “Better than to lie to me. You know what happens to you if you lie, how I hate deception.”

  “Oh?” I ask, my desire for him mounting, a pulse of pleasure low in my belly as he overtakes me. My voice drops and I whisper, “What happens to me, husband?”

  He leans closer, his whiskers grazing the bare skin at my chest, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. “Do you need a reminder?” he whispers. “The spanking I gave you two nights ago was not sufficient?”

  I swallow. Oh, it was sufficient all right. As I squirm beneath him, I remember it well. It wasn’t a serious spanking—which he can, and will, deliver if he sees fit—but rather one meant to keep me in my place. He tied my wrists with his silks, placed me face-down on the bed, and took his folded leather to my backside. I still bear the stripes.

  “I’m not sure I remember,” I tease. I am playing with fire. “And you didn’t answer my question.”

  “Which one?” he asks, his mouth traveling to my throat, his tongue trailing the length, the warm, sensual feel of it making my back rise off the bed, a moan escaping unbidden.

  I swallow. “I don’t remember,” I gasp. I can hardly remember my name.

  He chuckles as his tongue reaches my breasts. I cannot breathe. “You asked me two questions: whether or not I was really that full of myself, and if I had been sleeping. Given your impertinence, I will answer only one. I slept lightly, as I have been awake since the first rain drop fell three and a quarter hours ago. I could smell the coming rain, and could not sleep until it began.”

  I am not surprised. As Duke, he does not rest when the safety and plight of his people are at risk.

  “Now, Svali, are you going to tell me the truth, or do you need early morning punishment so soon? I am feeling well-rested and could use the exercise.” His tongue laps at my peaked nipple before taking it gently between his teeth. I writhe beneath him, but he holds my wrists fast. His warm breath caresses my chest as he releases my nipple only long enough to whisper, “Were you staring at me?” I am in the most precarious of positions, at the mercy of his mouth. I know the implied threat. Tell the truth, or he will bite.

  “I stared at nothing,” I lie, bracing myself just before his teeth begin to tighten.

  I yelp, but it only hurts for a split second. His tongue laps the place where he bit, the pink skin primed now. My arousal pools beneath him, my pulse accelerating as he trails his tongue down my navel, then lower, lower still. I push my wrists but he holds fast, my entire body at his command.

  His mouth now hovers at the apex of my thighs, his breath grazing my sex. My body thrums with desire, pulsing as I toss my head to the side and groan.

  “Still, no truth, woman?” he asks, circling my inner thigh with his warm tongue.

  “I know not of what you speak!” My voice is strangely garbled. I do not know how long I can hold out like this, playing the game of cat and mouse. His teeth sink into the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, and I lose all control. “My lord! Idan! Oh, gods in heaven!”

  His tongue swirls at my thighs, just there, barely there where I want to feel the pressure of his mouth, but he will not give in.

  “Yes, lovely?” he teases. “Why do you call my name?”

  “My lord,” I gasp. “I wish for you to pleasure me. Please!”

  His mouth falls to my thigh once more, sucking in, the pull of his tongue making me delirious with desire.

  “Then tell me the truth,” he growls.

  Whipped into a frenzy, the words tumble from my lips. “I stared at you. Of course I did! How could I lay beside a man like you and not marvel at your strength?” My head tosses back and forth upon the pillow like a woman possessed as he holds my wrists in his firm grip. “I fantasize about you night and day,” I gasp, my chest heaving. “About your leather on my naked skin, your hand about my throat, your mouth between my thighs.”

  He growls, his mouth coming back to me, a low chuckle sending a shiver of pleasure straight through my core. His tongue flicks between my legs, a tease of a stroke as I continue. “I want to feel every inch of you in me,” I beg. “I want to writhe beneath you as you take me. I want to feel the sting of your hand on my skin, then the fullness of your cock as you take me.”

  He pulls my bud into his mouth and sucks. I scream, my back rising off the bed as he releases it and lazily laps at my mound, shaved bare by his very own hand. One, two, three strokes of his tongue and I am on the cusp of climax. “May I, my lord?” If I come before he gives me leave, he will take me across his knee.

&nb
sp; He shakes his head. “My lord!”

  Another lap of his tongue and his hands release my wrists. “Keep them there,” he growls, fingers grasping my nipples, heightening my arousal.

  “My lord,” I beg. “Oh, please let me!”

  Another firm shake of his head as he continues the delicious, agonizing assault with his tongue. A dry sob escapes me as I hang on by a mere thread of control. I will not climax before he allows. I will not incur his punishment. But how much longer can I last?

  He pulls his tongue along my slit once more, and I feel it now, any second I am going to split wide open. I have ceased breathing, dizzy with need, gasping one more final plea. “Please, my lord.”

  He takes his mouth off me just long enough to whisper, “You may, lovely.”

  I shatter. I topple over from torture to ecstasy, lightning threading through my limbs, blinded with the force of my pleasure. I scream his name in the stillness as he rends me helpless, ravishing me, drawing every last drop of delight from my body. I fall to the bed as he removes his mouth, his lips turning up in a slow, devilish grin. His eyes are heated as he removes his undergarments, his erection primed and ready for me.

  Without further ado, he lowers himself on me, the silky head of his cock at my entrance, probing, and when he finds me slick and ready, he enters me. My back arches as he fills me, my walls gripping him as my arms encircle his neck. His hips rise and fall, a cadence of delight as he groans against my neck.

  I hold him tightly, ready to take him, my fingers gently anchoring me to his broad back. I gasp from the pleasure, just moments ago having climaxed, impossibly ready again, and when he finally groans his own release, a second thrill of ecstasy has me climaxing with him.

  Slowly, softly, he lowers himself to me, his whiskered mouth kissing my cheek, both tender and scratchy. I sigh with contentment as he rolls over and pulls me upon his chest.

  “You wicked girl,” he growls with a chuckle.

  “At your service, my lord,” I murmur against his chest, my knee hitched up on his legs, my arms wrapped round him. “What would you do with a passive little wallflower?”

  “Sleep in peace,” he mutters, his eyes shuttering, but I see his lips turn upward. “Have her service me and go back to bed?”

  I pull at the hair on his chest, a little tug that makes his eyes fly open. His hands grasp my wrist, and his brow furrows. His voice is low and deep as he chides me, “Enough now, Svali. You know I prefer to take you over my knee for pleasure, but that if you cross the line, you will feel the flat of my palm in punishment.”

  My pulse spikes at the threat. I do know my place. I nod against his chest. “Yes, my lord,” I say, chastened now.

  “Good girl,” he says. Though I love to tease him, I do crave his approval. I sigh in delight, but our peace is not for long as a knock bangs on the door. Frowning, I look at Idan. It is unusual for our servants to disturb us at this hour. Something is amiss.

  He pushes my arms off his chest and sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Just a minute,” he says, pulling on his breeches and padding, bare-chested, to the door. He yanks it open. I pull the covers over my shoulders and see the shadow of Tamar, our head servant, standing in the doorway, his head bowed.

  “So sorry to disturb you at this hour, my lord,” he says. His voice is low but carries through the stillness.

  Idan leans against the doorway and nods. “What is it?”

  “It is my lady’s sister, my lord. We have just heard the news. I came straight to you.”

  I sit up in bed, my heart racing. Cambri?

  Tamar continues, his eyes on Idan’s now. “She was taken, my lord. Last night, before the rain began, she was seized as prisoner.”

  Chapter 2

  Idan

  My first thought when I hear the news is not of my sister-in-law’s safety, but of my wife’s reaction. I turn to her where she lies against the sheets, her face white in the darkness.

  “Who took her?” she whispers.

  I turn back to Tamar. “My wife and I will dress. Call my brothers and have them assemble. I will hear all you know.”

  Tamar bows. The men he will summon are not the brothers of my flesh, but the members of the Hisrach, Warriors of the Highest Order, the trained military leaders of our planet who join me in battle to defend our lands. Kidnapping a member of my wife’s family is a serious infraction that deserves a militant response. I shut the door and go to Svali.

  The poor woman trembles, her violet eyes wide and frightened, her golden hair strewn about her pillow haphazardly. She clutches the sheets to her chin. “Who took her?” she whispers.

  I sit on the edge of the bed, pull down her bedcovers, and lift her into my arms, sitting her upon my lap. I hold her against my chest. “We will find out, Svali. Let us dress now, and I will seek answers to our questions.”

  “She’s so innocent,” Svali says. “She would never hurt anyone!”

  “I know, lovely. Now do as I say,” I instruct, my voice lowering. It is at times like these that her obedience to me is of the utmost importance.

  “Yes, my lord,” she says, getting up off my lap. I fetch a tunic for her and dress her quickly, following suit with my own clothing. Right before we leave the room, I fasten my belt about my waist and slide my swords into their sheaths, my daggers also tucked away and prepared for use.

  Today, I will go to battle.

  Gregor sits at the table, along with Aldric and Shaan. Shaan, like Svali and Cambri, came from Kleedan. Shaan became an honorary member of the Hisrach for his loyalty and courage. He trains with us, battles with us, and now stands in front of us as the one most invested in the news we have just heard. He is tall, with long dark hair, his eyes angry and guarded.

  Shaan is betrothed to Cambri.

  “What news, Shaan?” I ask.

  Shaan and Cambri live in our palace, as all of Svali’s family stays nearby. They each have their own living quarters within the palace. Svali’s mother Minoa is an old-fashioned sort, and out of respect for her, Cambri and Shaan do not yet dwell together. Shaan rooms with the single members of the Hisrach, and Cambri with her mother.

  “Minoa came to me at dawn,” he says. “She has been ill these past few days, and has taken medication to help her sleep more deeply. She says that, when she woke, there was evidence of a struggle. She came straight to me, and I alerted Tamar and asked that he fetch you.”

  “Evidence of a struggle?” I ask.

  Shaan swallows, his eyes darken, and his jaw clenches. “Her sheets were torn, her window was broken, and there was blood upon the floor.”

  My own eyes narrow. I am grateful my wife is not present to hear this account. “Minoa heard nothing, Shaan?”

  “Nothing, my lord,” he growls. “Would that I’d have wedded Cambri at the last full moon,” he says, his hands clenched in fists. “They would not have gotten past me.”

  Though I sympathize with his anger, we must act quickly. “Likely not,” I say. “Let us piece this together. Do you mean to tell me that whoever took her got by the guards at the gate?”

  Shaan nods. Gregor and Aldric shake their heads. “How many have you guarding your gate?” Aldric asks. All eyes go to him. Aldric is the Warrior King, head of the Hisrach and a formidable presence.

  “Two,” I answer. “Both well-trained.” I turn to Tamar. “Go immediately to the guards’ quarters, and bring to me the men responsible for last night’s guard,” I command.

  He bows in deference to me, and takes his leave. I turn back to Shaan.

  “Can you think of anyone who may have reason to hurt Cambri?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “No one, my lord. As you know, she is kind to all, harboring no ill will.”

  I fix him with a stern glare. “And you? Do you have any enemies?”

  His eyes widen as the realization hits him. “I do, my lord. I left my job as near-slave to Kleedan, and when I did, my overseer Vortrian claimed I owed him four month’s wages. It wa
s a lie, a mere ploy to get me to stay, and when I left, he had several pursue me. I assumed it was merely for show,” he says. “A demonstration to those still under his thumb, as it were.”

  I nod. “Would he stoop to such methods of retribution?”

  He shrugs. “I do not know. It was not just that I owed him money, my lord. He wished for me to take his daughter’s hand in marriage. I refused.”

  It is an avenue we must pursue.

  “We will see about this, then.”

  Gregor holds a hand up. “Idan, I know this man you speak of. His power runs much deeper than you may think. He is no mere overseer. He is principal owner of the majority of the Kleedian mines. He owns the brothels and pubs, and has a full entourage of women at his disposal. His slaves, he calls them.”

  I raise a brow. “Entourage?”

  Gregor frowns. “Yes, my lord. He has perhaps hundreds of men-at-arms prepared to defend his empire. Running in with one, two, or even a dozen armed men will likely not be the best approach. It would be an act of war, my lord.”

  I groan. I already do not like this overseer, and wish to enact my vengeance. “An act of war is not fair retribution to seek the sister of my wife?”

  King Aldric shakes his head, frowning. “It is not, Idan, no. Not when you have other means at your disposal.”

  My pulse quickens, but I must defer to him. I clench my jaw and look to him. “What would you suggest?”

  Aldric’s eyes meet mine, in both challenge and sympathy. “It would be best if one of you pretends to be one of Vortrian’s men. Infiltrate them, take them off-guard, and find your Cambri. When you have found her, do all you can to rescue her.”