A Baby for Pra'kir (Captives of Pra'kir Book 6) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  About This Book

  Also By Megan Michaels

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Megan Michaels

  From The Author

  Contents

  Title Page

  About This Book

  Also By Megan Michaels

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  Other Books by Megan Michaels

  From The Author

  A Baby For Pra’kir

  Megan Michaels

  About This Book

  What happens when a Pra’kirean alien and an intelligent, stubborn human fall in love and produce the planet’s first baby?

  When Blythe and her friends’ spaceship crashed into the shores of Endermere on planet Pra’kir, they found themselves placed into the planet’s fostering system. When Blythe was placed with Dr. Xan Breckett, she thought her life was over. She hadn’t anticipated that she’d be treated as a pet in his household, wearing a shock collar and a leash, eating and sleeping as a kitten. But she also hadn’t thought she’d grow to love being a treasured pet who was coddled and protected, one who had fallen completely in love with the large alien.

  With Dr. Xan Breckett’s medical intervention, he makes a child from her cells and his sperm—a beautiful baby girl. As a new judge on the Council of Nine with a captive slave from Earth and a baby on the way, his life has finally come together. Now he spends his spare time caring for his cherished pet, exploring Masterful sexual activities, and preparing Blythe for motherhood. It is a duty that has ended up being more pleasurable than even he had anticipated.

  But Xan and the other Masters have no idea that the women from Earth are orchestrating a meeting. Will it change all of their lives? What will be the end result of their devious plans? Will the careers of Rowth and Xan, both high-level government officials, be endangered? Most importantly, will it affect the surprisingly loving—and deeply sexual—relationships that have blossomed between captors and captives?

  Word Count: 48,000

  * * * *

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  Also By Megan Michaels

  The Alien’s Mark (Captives of Pra’kir)

  Divine Domination Series:

  Her Priest

  Cardinal Sinner

  The Service & Submission Series:

  Finding Submission

  Mastering Inga

  My Russian Master

  Colorado Christmas

  Service and Submission Boxed Set

  The Widow Wagon Series:

  Book One: Second Chances

  Book Two: More Than She Bargained For

  Book Three: Cinch Your Saddle

  Widow Wagon Boxed Set (to be released)

  The Desiring The Forbidden Series:

  Desiring The Forbidden

  His Sassy Girl

  Desiring the Forbidden Boxed Set

  Published By Stormy Night Publications

  What Naughty Little Girls Get

  The Little Princess Cruise

  Copyright © 2017 by Megan Michaels

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design by AllyCats Creations

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book contains descriptions of many BDSM and sexual practices, but this is a work of fiction and, as such, should not be used in any way as a guide. The author and publisher will not be responsible for any loss, harm, injury, or death resulting from use of the information contained within.

  In other words, don’t try this at home, folks!

  This book contains content that is not suitable for readers aged 17 and under.

  For mature readers only.

  Published in the United States of America.

  First Electronic Edition: September 2017

  Chapter One

  Blythe Wainwright never thought she’d become a mother, actually having a child of her own. Having had leukemia as a young child, she’d been told for years that she was infertile, but having an alien captor who was also a doctor had its benefits.

  Who knew?

  Now, she and Dr. Xan Breckett, judge for the Council of Nine, would be parents to the first child from a human and alien. “A Baby for Pra’kir” is what the headlines had said. Every news channel had a story about them regularly.

  Walking down the stairs wearing a nightie even though it was typically against the rules, Blythe had woken up cold and didn’t want to shiver getting her coffee and decided that it was worth the risk of punishment.

  Xan’s deep voice could be heard booming from the den.

  “Rowth, you know that I can’t do that. What we have going with this experiment cannot be compromised. At all. And if you think you’re inserting your agenda into my data, you’re dead wrong.” Xan pounded his fist on the desk, scowling at the dark haired commander.

  “Damn you, Breckett! We could merge some of our testing and data if you’d stop being so bull-headed.”

  Xan looked up at Blythe. He smiled at her briefly, before returning his attention to Commander Rowth Lashat on the comm screen. “The end goals for our tests are completely different. It’ll skew the results and the thought of starting over after you’ve sullied the water won’t help either of us in our endeavors.”

  Blythe sauntered around Xan’s chair, twirling her fingers through the black curls on his head, kissing him lightly on the neck. Looking at the screen without his knowledge, she almost gasped when she saw Brinley walking behind Rowth.

  The women caught each other’s eyes, staring quietly. Blythe straightening behind Xan, waiting until Rowth looked away before she then signed with her fingers to Brinley, displaying two fingers hoping she understood that she was communicating two o’clock. As an afterthought, Blythe tapped her wrist on an imaginary watch. Brinley gave a slow nod.

  Both women quickly moved away, not wanting to draw atte
ntion to their brief conversation.

  “Would you like some tea, Master?” Blythe stared into Xan’s dark-as-coal eyes.

  “Yes, please.” Slipping a hand under her short nightie, he cupped her left buttock, squeezing it painfully before loudly slapping the offended area.

  Scurrying to the kitchen, she heard Rowth’s low chuckle, and the two men quickly said goodbye.

  “Ganza, I have a meeting with Rowth at two o’clock today, and then I’ll be heading to the office to meet with the Council of Nine at three o’clock.”

  Her heart leaped within her chest. That would give her a window of time to talk to Brinley.

  Since their spaceship plummeted to the water several months ago on the coast of Endermere onto the Planet Pra’kir, all the women on the Reconnaissance had been put into “foster care” as part of their punishment. The Council of Nine assigned them to high-ranking individuals or families in Endermere.

  Dr. Xan Breckett, a respected medical doctor in their community, had taken Blythe for her intelligence and healthy body regardless of her injuries from the crash. He wished to study her mind and her body, publishing his findings in a medical journal. And for his efforts, he’d been promoted to a position on the Council of Nine instead of his hopes for a surgeon general position. The promotion—and Xan’s lack of background or experience with a legal career—had not sat well with Rowth, Xan’s supervisor. At all.

  But Rowth had taken on Brinley, the most injured of the women, and from what Blythe had overheard during her short time at Xan’s house, the commander was finding a cure for the Mekron with Brinley’s DNA—which should assure him of a position on the council himself. But, with Xan’s unexpected promotion, Rowth’s own promotion had been delayed.

  The Mekron was another alien species Pra’kir had taken in, but over time, their bodies had deteriorated, and without medical intervention, they would soon die. Their only hope was that the DNA from these Terra women would save them.

  Although Blythe had attempted very early in her fostering to run away, hoping to find her shipmates, it had been an unsuccessful adventure—and one that had ended poorly for her backside. But, in many respects, she and Xan bonded after that escapade and realized their love for each other.

  Amshal Thanius, a wizened old Council of Nine judge, had informed both she and Xan that a monitor bug had spotted her running through the adjacent woods seeking shelter in Xan Breckett’s cabin. Blythe had vowed that if she were to venture outside of this huge old house again, she’d have a weapon to shoot down the blasted monitor bugs.

  But she didn’t want to get ahead of herself…First, she needed to talk to Brinley.

  Brinley is safe, and walking. She’s alive. Now to find the rest of the women.

  Looking up at the ceiling, the blue holo told her it was ten in the morning. It had taken some work to teach her the alphabet and numbering system on Pra’kir, but she at least could read basic labels now and tell time. She had four hours, which would give her enough time to eat, have her lactation training, visit Tegan, and then Xan would shuffle off to his meetings.

  Billex, Xan’s assistant and butler, would drive him to the different locations and, knowing Ganza, the nanny would nap while Xan was away. The woman was getting on in years, and, truthfully, would be retiring soon.

  It galled Blythe to no end that Xan felt she needed a nanny.

  A nanny, for Chrissake.

  Between Ganza and Xan, these aliens had taken more liberties with her body than she ever thought possible.

  No doubt Ganza would put Blythe down for a nap, and once assured that her charge was asleep, the older woman would recline on her bed, snoring up a storm within minutes, giving Blythe the time she needed to communicate with Brinley.

  Pushing the metal cup into the opening in the wall, she pressed one of the several buttons near the cozy pocket, watching the tea leaves drop into the cup before hot water slowly trickled, steeping the tea. Defas is what they called it here, but it resembled a mixture of coffee and tea, and although Blythe drank it, she still hadn’t determined if she liked the taste or not, but she needed the caffeine. And defas did that for her.

  Xan’s bare feet padded on the floor behind her, alerting her to his presence before his long muscled arms encased her in his embrace. He nuzzled his nose into her neck, inhaling deeply, taking in her scent. “You smell sweet—your natural scent is like the berries you eat for breakfast, but today you have the added scent of…arousal…and my seed.”

  Her sex throbbed in response to his words. She twirled in his arms, facing him for only a moment before she dropped her gaze, tracing her finger along the tattoo on his arm saying, “Can we visit the baby this morning?” Blythe ventured a quick peep of his face, his dark eyebrows furrowed, causing her to shutter her eyes quickly.

  “Pet, what are the rules about visiting Tegan Denisse?” He tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his stern countenance.

  “Uhm…You decide when we visit. Not me.”

  He nodded solemnly. “Continue.”

  “I must service you first, and then practice feeding.” Her clit thrummed, the whole of her body tingling…especially one certain area of her body.

  Crossing his large arms over his chest, he nodded again. “Then why did you ask?”

  “I just…I miss her and I thought it would be nice to change it up a little today.”

  “Change it up—what does that mean?”

  “To change the routine, or do something different.” She pulled her lip between her teeth, unsure how all of this would work out for her…and her bottom.

  Xan shook his head, pushing back the shock of curls on his forehead. Grasping her arm above the elbow, he walked Blythe to the kitchen table before bending her over it, pushing her nightie onto her back. With a low growl, he yanked on the material wadded up in his fist, jerking her to a standing position again. “Get this thing off. I’ve been way too lenient lately. You’re not supposed to be wearing clothes unless I order it.”

  Grabbing the hem, she swooped the nighty over her head, letting it flutter to the floor. She resisted the urge to cover herself, clasping her elbows behind her.

  “You’re such a good girl when you have a mind to be.” He walked around her, brushing his finger along her skin, her body trembling. Holding her breath when he stood behind her, her mind raced with the phrase stay still, stay still.

  “Good girl.” Xan slapped each buttock, the force making her rise up onto her tiptoes.

  “Oh,” she quietly muttered, struggling not to lose formation, digging her nails into the skin of her forearms.

  “Hurts, yes?” His evil grin made her belly flip. Blythe had learned more about the kinder, gentler side of Xan in these few months since becoming a captive of Pra’kir, but it didn’t lessen the healthy fear she had of his stern, harsh side. He expected abject obedience; excuses had no place in his household. You obeyed, or you were punished until you chose to obey. Period.

  “Yes, Master.” Her eyes brimmed with tears, and although the spanks stung, the tears were more in anticipation of what was coming than what had just occurred.

  “Back over the table, girl.”

  She squeaked a low whine as she laid her now sweaty body over the cool, hard table.

  “No commentary.” He swatted her ass hard, her groin slamming into the edge of the table. She gripped the opposite edge, pulling herself tightly to the table to keep from moving.

  “You’re not in control. I am. I should think that had been made perfectly clear—on several occasions. We’ll rectify that now.”

  Xan had rules for her behavior during a punishment. No movement. No hands reaching back to protect her ass. No swearing. No clenching.

  Before becoming a captive on Pra’kir, Blythe would have sworn most of those rules were impossible during a punishment, but it was amazing the feats one could master with incentive and a bit of trepidation.

  Xan’s large, paddle-like hand slammed into her bottom, the smacks taking her breath
away. Thankfully he never forbade her from shouting or crying out, because the yelps began immediately. Her fingers clung to the table, her knuckles turning white with the strain of obeying.

  She would like to say Xan’s bark was more than his bite, but that wasn’t the case at all. His bite was so much harsher than his words ever could be. In reality, his words could be quite gentle and sweet…and loving. Terms of endearment and his protective nurturing nature flowed easily, fostered by her dependence and subservient behavior. But the minute she tried manipulating or cajoling him into doing things her way, she found the sting of his hand or implement on her backside. Like now.

  One would think that she would have given up, but independence was a trait that she cherished and didn’t see fading easily. It was the last shred of herself, the one thing that gave her hope…the control over what she thought, felt, and to some extent, whether she obeyed or not. She vowed she’d exert her independence whenever possible.

  His hand continued its march up and down her backside, leaving scorched, stinging pain in its wake. She waggled her ass, keeping her hands and feet still. He demanded that she stay perfectly still, but it seemed that his swats were harder today than normal and she hoped he’d give her a bit of leeway since she couldn’t keep her hips still to save her soul. Her face slid in the tears puddling on the table, her cries and his swats filling the otherwise quiet kitchen.

  “I decide when we’re seeing our daughter. Tegan Denisse is taken care of and watched at all times.” He spanked her sit spots sharply, the tendrils of pain snaking down her legs.

  Proudly she kept her feet still despite the urge to dance away the agony.

  After he’d thoroughly punished the area, and she had no doubt that the whole of her buttocks were red, he stopped, leaving her to cry quietly.