Master of the Galaxy

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2011 by TempleFiction

www.templefiction.com

All rights reserved.

Cover design by TempleFiction

Chapter
1

Chapter
2

Chapter
3

Chapter
4

Chapter
5

Chapter
6

Miya, a proud and arrogant member of an
asexual race, is overcome by her submissive and sexual reaction to
a stranger. He takes her to his planet where she finds herself at
his whim and mercy both physically and mentally. He eventually
comes to control not only her body but her heart.

This novella contains strong, thematic
elements of domination/submission and BDSM as well as explicit and
graphic descriptions of sexual situations. The experience is
portrayed in a sensuous, romantic and erotic fashion but it is not
light BDSM.

I am Miya. I am a woman of immense power,
vast education and formidable leadership. I possess a great
intellect, I am enlightened and I am beautiful, or so I have been
told. This is my story. At least part of my story. Perhaps it is
only the beginning.

My life began as one of privilege. I, of
course, am of the line of Jiikorians. We are all strong, both men
and women, although it is the women among us who tend to have the
greatest successes. There is much half-blood in the Jiikorian line,
dilution from special-purpose breeding, adding to our collective
knowledge. Although there is no shame in this, I have no such
taint. My blood is pure. I am a descendant of the original
Archetypes.

As you might suspect, I attended only the
best schools and was educated on nine different planets: Ortan,
N’n, Srinor, A’akan, Balinth, Vortoth, Ly-ui, Wynth and of course,
my home planet, Yar. Each planet had something different to offer
me. On some I pursued intense academic studies, on others I learned
the arts of warfare, still others negotiation and compromise. After
my education was complete, I had become the consummate ruler,
warrior, envoy, diplomat. And I was highly sought after. Never
doubt that.

My life continued as it should until my one
hundred and thirty-ninth year. If you do not know, on Yar, we live
for nearly one thousand years. So I should say I was past
adolescence – I felt wise – but still young when I encountered
Him.

I did not intend to. I had no use for Him or
any of his kind. It was an accident, purely an accident, a chance
meeting. So I told myself. So I tell myself still.

It all started on an asteroid if you would
believe that. A small outpost known as Karatar. Why I, Miya, of the
pureblood Jiikorian line, was on a mere asteroid to negotiate a
treaty is an entirely different story. Suffice to say, it was for
legitimate reasons.

* * * * *

“You have been quarreling far too long,” I
said, with command, to the tribal leader of the Tryton people who
controlled the asteroid system, including Karatar.

“And you,” I said, turning to the leader of
the D’cren and tossing my coiled red hair confidently over my
shoulders. “You seek the raw materials of Tryton, but are not
willing to offer full price, instead claiming there to be
imperfections which manifest themselves only after arrival on your
planet. These ‘problems’ are caused by your own poor stasis during
shipping.”

The D’cren leader bowed his head at this for
he knew it to be true. I have the way of my people. I see things
for their truth and it is up to the person whose secrets are
revealed to accept my decree or not. But knowing it is I who has
revealed it, they are generally loathe to deny it, for they know
others will believe what I say.

“But you have together been deceived,” I
said and both rulers looked at me with surprise.

I stared at the head of the D’cren. “It is
your own men who sabotage the shipments to guarantee the security
of their employ. A simple shipment of pure Tryton grade quality
would satisfy the needs of the D’cren people for five months or
longer. But inferior shipments require repeated trips to the
Karatar asteroid belt and generate more earnings for the crew.”

“And more,” I said, as I considered the
Tryton chieftain. “Your men are not blameless. They are bribed by
the D’cren workers to turn a blind eye to the storage of the
materials when loaded aboard D’cren ships. They accept such bribes,
knowing Tryton will not receive a fair price, knowing it fosters
discontent between your planets.”

“You,” I said, turning once more to the
D’cren leader. “You will enter into a collaborative arrangement
with Tryton. Your men will be paid based only on the quality of the
shipment.”

“As will your men,” I spoke to the Kartan
chieftain, “so that there is no incentive to sabotage their
counterparts.”

“Also,” I continued, “since your planets are
interdependent on trade, you will mingle your workers, creating a
unified workforce for mining, harvest, storage, shipment and
quality. Tryton and D’cren crews will share leadership,
administrative and labor roles.”

The details, I knew, would be easily worked
out. It was an elegant solution to a long-standing controversy, one
which would cost each party little, but obtain the accord both
sought. Both leaders could see the wisdom in my pronouncement. It
was solutions like this for which our Jiikorian expertise was
sought and given, for a price of course.

Just as we were finalizing the arrangements,
the doors to the outpost burst open and a man, taller than I (our
race is considered tall and I am taller than most men) blustered
in, covered in asteroid dirt. His entrance caused quite the stir as
security for both leaders, as well as my own detail, rushed to
determine who he was and what was his purpose.

I paid him little attention – his presence
was irrelevant to the negotiations and my thoughts were on
completion. I was ready to head back to Yar and engage in my
customary, long meditative session which I use to restore my mind
and renew my talents after each transaction.

Absorbed as I was in finalizing the details,
I did not notice that the hall had fallen silent. I am usually
aware of everything – no, I am always aware of everything – at
least I had been up until that day. I looked up and every single
person was frozen in place, motionless, as if a strange distortion
in time had just swept over Karatar. Everyone, that is, except
Him.

He walked up and stood before my throne
where I was seated, authenticating the terms of the treaty at my
working desk.

“Rise,” he said to me.

His voice was deep, firm, authoritative. I
immediately knew he had strong powers. Powers beyond those of
anyone in the hall, despite his appearance as some sort of rogue
driller. He was possessed of physical strength, a primal magnetism,
and a darkness to his personality, though those qualities appealed
to me not at all in the way they would matter to most women. As a
Jiikorian, I did not engage in sex nor did I feel a sexual
attraction to anyone. We feel no need, no urge, no instinct to
copulate. We have a way of procreation that is beyond the scope of
this story, but it does not involve the crude sexual act in which
most races engage.

I also immediately knew he was not using his
powers on me. He had persuaded all the security forces to lay down
their arms, he held an entire hall of people immobile, but he had
commanded me to rise with no pretense of his abilities. I obey no
one. I am of the top strata, the highest rank, venerated by all. I
learn, I listen, but I do no one’s bidding. Still, I found myself
unable to say no to this man.

I rose.

He looked at me, his dark eyes glinting. I
could not tell you what color they were. Perhaps they were multiple
colors, perhaps they changed with his mood. I only remember that
they were dark.

“I am pleased,” he said.

At his words, I felt a jolt rush through me,
a sensation I cannot describe, something both intense and
electrifying, perhaps originating on a very primitive level. I have
never desired to please anyone, let alone any man. Perhaps I have
pleased others through my work, my expertise, my skills, but I have
never cared whether or not they were pleased. But at his simple
statement, I knew at that instant I wanted to please Him. It is
hard to say why, let me continue the story.

“You are Miya.”

Again, he was not using any of his gifts. I
was arrogant enough. I could have turned him away. Everyone knows I
am Miya. I do not have to answer to statements such as this which
are not even questions.

But I said, “Yes,” and lowered my eyes. I
knew then that I was lost.

He produced a collar and fastened it around
my neck. I do not know the answer to where he had it hidden or why
he had brought it with him. It was beautiful, fitting I suppose,
not the kind of rough, harsh collars I have seen on slaves and
servants, but one made of linked, white Tavos stones, the most
treasured substance in the galaxy, mined there on the very asteroid
on which we then occupied. Did he create it or have it created
while on Karatar? I have often wondered.

He attached a tether to the collar and led
me out of the hall. Why I followed in such a manner, I have no
idea. I still do not understand to this day although to be sure I
have given it much thought. It is true I had no guards to prevent
it since they were all inert and held motionless (He did release
them later). But I made no protest either, following meekly behind,
content I suppose, if that is the right word, to follow Him.

He brought me to his planet. I do not
remember much of the journey, except that we transferred from his
small ship to a very large one. I was treated well and allowed to
move about freely. He was busy with other aspects of the voyage and
I rarely saw him. I had studied systography, the mapping of space,
in my extensive education and I recognized enough from the
placement of the stars to know that the planet to which we traveled
lay far in the uncharted portion of the galaxy.

How long I spent on his planet I could not
tell you personally as time seemed immaterial. I learned later,
however, that my own race scoured the galaxy to rescue me, the
Jiikorians sparing no expense, using our planet’s considerable
wealth. I suppose I could have orchestrated my own escape, given my
ingenuity, but I did not. Yet it was Yarian efforts to bring me
home that finally did bring about my release from Him.

I remember the first time he came to me as
if it was yesterday.

I was in my room. It was spacious, with
enough comforts so that I had felt not at all deprived from Yar,
open windows with a view of His beautiful planet. There were
libraries and meditative places to which I was allowed free access.
I had been escorted there with no instructions and remained unsure
of my role until that day.

I turned as he entered and he came and stood
before me, his eyes burning down at me, magnetic, intense,
vivid.

“Undress,” he said simply, his voice strong,
commanding.

It was not a request.

I did, pulling the short white dress I wore
slowly over my head and letting it slide to the floor through my
fingers. I had not been given undergarments on His planet and so
was completely nude. We do not go unclothed on Yar and I had never
been uncovered before a man. I remember that his eyes drifted over
me, slowly, lingering on every part of my body. I do not remember
feeling ashamed, but I felt myself flush hot under his gaze and my
flesh quivered as if a sudden breeze had swept through the
room.

He walked around me, taking his time, as if
scrutinizing, inspecting, evaluating me. In fact, he was. My skin
was alive with sensation although he had not so much as touched me.
I began to wish that he would touch me, but he said nothing, came
no nearer, just watched my reactions with his cool, dark eyes.