Breeder
Authors: Cara Bristol
Tags: #Science Fiction & Space Opera, #Domestic Discipline, #Futuristic
Table of Contents
Loose Id Titles by Cara Bristol
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgment
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
Loose Id Titles by Cara Bristol
Cara Bristol
BREEDER
Cara Bristol
www.loose-id.com
Breeder
Copyright © October 2013 by Cara Bristol
All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
eISBN 9781623005313
Editor: Ann M. Curtis
Cover Artist: Mina Carter
Published in the United States of America
Loose Id LLC
PO Box 809
San Francisco CA 94104-0809
www.loose-id.com
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.
Warning
This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id LLC’s e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.
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Acknowledgment
I’d like to thank my editor, Ann Curtis, for working with me and helping to improve a story that I think will become one of my personal favorites. And I’d like to give a cyber hug to all my author friends who continue to inspire and support me.
Chapter One
If not for the sneeze, Dak would have exited the musty, dank corridor. But the muffled sound caught his attention. When he squinted into the darkened cell, he spotted a female crouched on a straw mat in the corner. He hadn’t noticed her on his way into the Breeder Containment Facility; the habitation unit had appeared empty.
Dak turned to the BCF director and sighed. “What about her?”
The beta’s already crooked mouth drooped farther in distaste. “My apologies, Commander. You don’t want that one.”
Sival’s disparagement piqued Dak’s interest. The director’s opinion had proven worthless; none of the breeders he’d preselected for inspection had rated close to satisfactory.
“I would like to see her,” Dak insisted.
“Very well, Commander.” Sival saluted and opened the habitation cell with a master entry card. Dak stepped into the small enclosure. The director followed, and the metal gate clanked shut.
The naked female drew into a tighter ball and tucked her face deeper into the crook of her arm. Other breeders had preened as soon as they’d noticed him and his chest-insignia identification. He wasn’t just an alpha. He was
the
Alpha.
This breeder’s lack of respect and failure to adhere to Protocol by acknowledging his presence struck him as odd. Dak frowned. “Is she mentally deficient?”
Sival tightened his lips. “No, stubborn, ill behaved. She would not befit an Alpha Commander.” He nudged the female’s hip with the toe of his boot. “Rise to your feet.” She did not respond, and he moved to prod her again. Dak forestalled him with a wave and grasped the female’s arm.
“You will stand.” He hauled her upright. She averted her face, so he grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. Tangled hair the color of black heating stones fell back from an oval face to reveal eyes like the Parseon moon. The glimmer of intelligence that sparked within the violet depths aroused his interest more than anything else he’d seen so far. Nature had bestowed the Parseon people with an exceptionally strong immune system so that they rarely required medical intervention, but breeders by nature were weak, and so many of the ones he’d seen had seemed dull or ill or both. This one’s skin, when unsmudged by grime and dirt, probably glowed like the pale sands of the Ospian Sea. He supposed, as breeders went, she wasn’t unattractive, although the stench emanating from her was. His beta would throw a fit if he dragged such a creature into their domicile.
“Why is she so filthy?” he asked.
“She refuses to bathe.”
As Dak scrutinized her facial features for shape and symmetry, he noted little imperfection or dysgenics other than her lack of hygiene and her gender. When cleaned up, she would please the eye, but to bear his sons, it mattered more that she be healthy and strong.
He released her face, stepped back, and assessed her from head to toe. He exceeded the height of most males, alphas included, while she stood smaller than the average female. The top of her head failed to even meet his shoulder. She was thinner than other breeders too, although her chest bore an abundance of fatty breast tissue. In the chill of the cell, her nipples had puckered to hard points. Despite the coolness, he was experiencing a rise in temperature. A dormant lust chose that moment to kindle, causing heat to coil in his abdomen and groin. He could not remember the last time he’d experienced such a spontaneous reaction—if he ever had. With the pads of his fingers, he probed the sides of her neck for swollen areas. The way she trembled under his touch aroused a sliver of sympathy. Breeders lacked courage, and uncertainty frightened them. Not all alphas and their betas treated breeders well. If he chose her, she would be adequately fed and housed. His command consumed his time and energy, which left his beta alone for long stretches. A breeder would relieve Corren of household chores and provide him with a physical outlet as well.
“What is she called?” Dak asked.
“Her sire named her Omra.”
Peace
, it meant.
He parted Omra’s lips with his fingers and slipped a digit into her mouth, running it along her upper gum line to check the solidness of her teeth. At a flash in her eyes, he jerked his hand away a centisecond before she snapped her jaws together, so that her incisor only grazed the tip of his finger.
Sival’s face reddened. “Commander, I apologize. I will have her flogged.”
“Unnecessary. I will take care of it.” He unclipped the
sudon
from his belt. Crafted from the tail of the
baronian ilyx
, the stiff leather sudon bore the protrusions where the venomous quills had been removed. As he’d not needed to use it before, scant amounts of venom remained in the raised areas, which caused temporary but vicious stinging.
The breeder shrieked when he hauled her slight body over to the stone bench. He sat and yanked her over his lap, raising her buttocks into position. Despite his focus on correcting her behavior, he took notice of the roundness of her backside, plump for such a skinny female. Her natural padding was fortunate. Though the whipping would hurt, it would not injure her.
He brought the sudon down hard on one cheek. She howled, and he smacked again, placing a dimpled red streak next to the first.
“You will not bite,” he said and marked the other side. “You will obey. You will follow Protocol.”
With precision and force, he welted her pale flesh. Her caterwauling drowned out the omnipresent din of the containment center. She flailed her arms and legs in an attempt to escape, but he hung on to her waist with one hand and continued to paddle.
By the time he’d decided her chastisement had been sufficient, her buttocks, marked by inflamed dots caused by the protrusions on the sudon, radiated heat and redness, and her body had gone limp across his lap, although she continued to sob.
He reattached the sudon to his belt, opposite his dagger side, which also bore his holstered LPD, a lasered projectile device. Without the interference of her struggles, he continued his examination. Her legs had fallen open to reveal her sex, and his eyes widened at the sight of the heavy lock-ring piercing her inner labia. Dak jerked his gaze to the director. “She has never been bred.”
“It would appear not.” Sival shifted on spindly legs that supported a torso swollen by gluttony.
“You did not judge this female worthy of mention?”
Sival fluttered his hands. “Her behavior—”
“—can be corrected by discipline and training. But virgin breeding status is a rare commodity.”
“I mean no contradiction or disrespect, Commander, but she is incorrigible.”
Dak glanced at a docile Omra slumped over his lap. Sobs had dwindled to sniffles. “She does not appear to be incorrigible now.” He tugged on the metal locking device. The
telenium
ring had been fused; it would have to be cut off before breeding. “I am Alpha. I must be 100 percent certain that male offspring be mine and not another’s.”
Sival shifted on his heels and bowed his head in a picture of obeisance. “I apologize, Commander, for my lack of foresight.”
Dak studied Sival. His left eye opened larger than the right, which caused his pockmarked face to appear lopsided. Though not uncommon for men to be nervous in an Alpha’s presence, Sival fidgeted more than the norm, and Dak had begun to question whether respect or subterfuge motivated his lack of eye contact. Dak had assumed the director’s failure to produce quality females for inspection had resulted from a dearth of intelligence, but intuition supported by Sival’s behavior strongly suggested the misunderstandings arose from a willful deception. The director hadn’t overlooked Omra; he’d omitted her. The dishonesty was bad enough, but the egregious neglect in the BCF warranted prompt attention. The beta didn’t realize it, but he would be flogged and demoted from director to habitation unit cleaner. Dak sniffed and resisted the urge to cover his nose. All the cells needed cleaning. And this one was the worst.