Assigned a Mate

Assigned a Mate

By

Grace Goodwin

Copyright © 2016 by Stormy Night Publications and Grace Goodwin

Copyright © 2016 by Stormy Night Publications and Grace Goodwin

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

Goodwin, Grace

Assigned a Mate

Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson

Images by The Killion Group and Bigstock/mikiel

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

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.

Confusion filled my mind, but I couldn’t focus on the room, or figure out how I got here because with every panted breath a hard cock filled me just to the brink of pain, close enough that the sharp hint of it only added to the sensations overloading my mind and body. I was consumed with pleasure. My entire awareness shrank until there was nothing but the press of my skin against the stand, the hand at my neck holding me in place like a contented cat, the pulling sway of what felt like small weights attached to my nipples, my pussy clenching at the cock that filled me, claimed me. Owned me.

Sex had never been this good with any of the men I’d been with. I couldn’t see who was fucking me but there was no question he was a
man.

The grip on the back of my neck vanished and I felt two large hands on my bare hips, the fingertips pressing into my round flesh. Since I couldn’t see either man, this had to be a dream. And I didn’t want it to end. I needed to come so badly I was ready to beg for release.

I’d never had a sex dream before. I’d never dreamt anything like this, where the dream seemed
so
real, felt
so
good. I didn’t care, didn’t want to think anything more about it because the vibrations against my clit sped up.

“Yes!” I cried, trying to push my hips back to take the incredible cock even deeper. “Don’t stop, please, oh, God!”

He didn’t. Like the delectable dream that it was, I came. The vibrations on my clit pushed me over the edge, but it was the cock filling me that kept the pleasure going and going until I couldn’t take it anymore.

The man fucking me tensed, his fingers dug into my hips as he roared his own release. I felt his hot seed deep inside of me. As he continued to fuck me through his orgasm, the warm, sticky liquid seeped out of my pussy and down my thighs. I slumped over the stand, sated and replete. The last thing I heard before I slipped back into the darkness of dreams was, “She will do. Take her to the harem.”

* * *

I fought my way back to awareness and wished I hadn’t. A stern young woman sat opposite me in the small examination room. She appeared to be close to my age, and would have been pretty, if not for the thin-lipped, unsympathetic look on her face. She wore a crisp brown suit and high heels and held a computer processing tablet on her lap. With her long hair pulled back into a strict bun, she looked like a businesswoman, not a medical specialist. The room I was in looked like a hospital room, with medical equipment hooked up to my body to monitor my heart rate, brain activity, and enzyme levels. My body still hummed from the strength of my release and I was ashamed to notice that the examination chair I was strapped to was soaked beneath my bare ass and thighs, the wetness caused by arousal. The plain, short gray gown I wore was covered in the logo for the Interstellar Bride Program, and just like all standard medical garb was open in the back. As expected, I was naked beneath for processing.

The woman had the sour expression of someone who was used to dealing with prisoners who were truly guilty of their soulless crimes. Her dark brown uniform had the bright red insignia and three words in shimmering letters on her chest that made me break out in a cold sweat.

Interstellar Bride Program.

God help me. I was going off-world, leaving Earth behind as a mail-order bride. While the concept had been useful many centuries before, it was revitalized to meet current interplanetary needs. As one of these mail-order brides, I would be forced to fuck and make babies with some alien leader from a planet deemed worthy by the interstellar coalition that now protected Earth. An alien male who had earned the rank and the right to claim a bride from one of the protected member worlds. As Earth was the newest planet added to the coalition, it now offered the required thousand brides per year. There were very few volunteers, despite the generous compensation granted to a woman who was courageous—or desperate—enough to volunteer to be a bride. No, most of the thousand brides sent off-world were women convicted of a crime, or like me, forced to run. To hide.

“
…you should be able to breed her without delay.
”
That rough, hard-edged voice drifted through my mind. That had been just a dream, right? But why would I dream
that
?

“Miss Day, I am Warden Egara. Are you aware of your placement options? As a convicted murderer, you forfeit all rights but the right of naming. You may name a world, if you wish, and we will choose your mate from that world based on your assessment results. Or you may waive the right of naming and accept the results of the psychological assessment process. If you choose this option, you will be sent to the world, and the mate, that best
matches your psychological profile. If you wish to meet your true mate, I highly recommend you choose the second option and follow the recommendations of the matching processors. We have been matching brides and their mates for hundreds of years. Which is it to be?”

The woman’s voice barely registered and I pulled against the cuffs that locked my wrists at my sides. While I’d heard mention of other planets, I didn’t know anyone from another world, especially not a mate. On Earth a woman could choose her own boyfriends, lovers, husbands. But an alien mate? I had no idea where to start. And even if I chose a world, my actual match would be decided solely through the Interstellar Bride Program’s psychological analysis. Should I pick a world? I was only going to be gone for a few months, not the rest of my life. What difference did it make? I wasn’t even really Evelyn Day.

It was my new identity. My real name was Eva Daily and I wasn’t really a murderer, either. I was innocent, but that didn’t matter. Not anymore. It didn’t matter that this was all a farce, a way to keep me alive until a trial date could be set and I could testify against a member of one of the most powerful organized crime syndicates on Earth.

I’d been a well-respected doctor until I witnessed a murder behind a curtain in the hospital’s emergency department. Turned out, I was the only one who could identify the assassin. The killer’s family had immense wealth and powerful connections in both the world’s government and organized crime. Witness protection was the only chance of keeping me alive until I could identify the man in court. Going off-planet was the only way to ensure the family’s extensive reach wouldn’t harm me.

Regardless of the fact that my conviction was just a cover, as far as Earth’s justice system was concerned, I was a murderer. I was to be treated as such. This medical gown was plain gray prison garb, my wrist and ankles were both bound to a hard, unforgiving chair. I was out of options. I’d already gone through this a thousand times in my head. Survive. That’s what I had to do and there was no way to do that if I didn’t get away from Earth as quickly as possible.

“Miss Day?” the warden repeated. Her voice was emotionless, as if she’d processed too many criminals to be anything but jaded and hardened to the worst offenders.

“I will ask once more, Miss Day. Three is the required number of times I must attempt to elicit a response. After that, you will automatically be matched based on the results of your testing and submitted for processing.”