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Assigned a Mate by Grace Goodwin – Sample

Chapter One

Assigned a MateMy 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.”


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.”

I tried to calm my racing heart, for I was not only bound in place, I couldn’t escape the room, the building and most especially, the life I now had to face. This drab room was nothing compared to what I’d already endured… and nothing to what was still to come.

But I couldn’t let this cold-hearted woman choose for me. Surely she’d send me to a harsh planet like Prillon, where the men were notorious for being hard and unforgiving, both in bed and out of it.

“Do you wish to claim the right of naming your world, Miss Day? Or do you submit to the processing center’s placement protocols?” Her prompt brought me out of my thoughts. Before she’d entered the room, I’d been subjected to their so-called processing. I’d been fully alert and awake when it started, watching images of various landscapes, men in all kinds of dress and appearance, even couples participating in various sexual acts, such as a woman on her knees and sucking a man’s cock.

Unfortunately, that had been one of the tamer images. Some images included two men taking a woman, some an entire room full of people watching as one woman was fucked. Bondage, floggers, sexual aids. The scenes had gone from deserts to pictures of the urban expanses of huge alien cities the size of New York City or London, from dildos and chastity belts to piercings and anal probes.

The images had moved faster and faster and I thought I’d remained awake, but I must have fallen asleep and had that weird, yet vivid, dream. When I awoke, the video screens were gone, but I was still bound to the examination chair.

I glanced up at her neutral expression, licked my lips, and replied, “I will accept the processing protocol selection.”

The woman gave a curt nod as she pressed a button on the tablet before her. “Very good. Let’s begin the placement selection protocol. For the record, state your name.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, then opened them, for I could still feel the lingering effects of that orgasm. It had been intense and it had been a dream. This was cold, hard reality. I doubted there would be real escape, or any real pleasure in my future. “E-Evelyn Day.”

I’d been about to say my real name, but remembered myself. How could I forget?

“The crime for which you’ve been found guilty?”

It was hard to say the word. I still couldn’t believe I had agreed to such extreme measures, such lies. “Murder.”

“Are you currently, or have you ever been married?”

“No.” That was one of the reasons I was in this mess. I worked too much. I had no man in my life, no one to come home to. So I stayed at work, took extra shifts, and witnessed a murder.

“Have you produced biological offspring?”

“No.” I wanted to, someday, but with an alien? That hadn’t been in my childhood dreams. Why couldn’t I have met a sexy, single man who liked a woman with both a brain and generous curves?

“Excellent.” Warden Egara checked off a list of boxes on her display tablet. “For the record, Miss Day, as an eligible, fertile female in your prime, you had two options available to you to serve out your sentence for the crime of murder, life without parole in a Carswell Penitentiary located in Fort Worth, Texas.”

I shivered at the mention of the notorious prison that housed the most dangerous and cruelest of criminals. The entire plan to keep me safe until trial was to send me off-planet. Carswell, fortunately, wasn’t something I had to consider.

Warden Egara continued, “Or, as you chose earlier, the alternative of the Interstellar Bride Program. You were brought here to complete your assessment and matching. I am pleased to tell you that the system has made a successful match and you will be sent to a member planet. As a bride, you might never return to Earth, as all travel will be determined and controlled by your new planet’s laws and customs. You will surrender your citizenship of Earth and become an official citizen of your new world.”

Where would they send me? What kind of perverted insanity had my neuroscans shown this woman? Based on the vivid dream, it could have been anything. Would I go to a chieftain on Vytros or a rich merchant captain on Ania? One of the rough, patriarchal, outlier worlds?

I cleared my throat, for the words seemed stuck. “Can you… can you explain the choosing process? How do I know the tests made a good match?”

She looked at me as if I’d lived under a rock my entire life. “Really, Miss Day. You know how it works.”

When I remained silent, she sighed. “Very well. All prisoners are put through a series of tests. Your mind has been stimulated and monitored for both conscious and subconscious reactions so that we can make sure to match you appropriately with another planet’s customs and sexual practices. As you will be living there indefinitely, it is important that we send brides that are worthy of the leaders who request them.

“Each planet has a list of qualified males awaiting a bride,” she continued. “Your testing discovers the best world for you, then matches you to the most compatible candidate. Once your processing begins, he is immediately notified. Once done, you will be transported and you will awaken on your new planet. Your mate will be waiting to claim you.”

My wrists were still bound; I was able to clench my fists. “What if… what if the match isn’t good?”

She pursed her lips. “There is no coming back. Per Protocol 6.2.7a, we can’t force you to remain with someone incompatible. You will have thirty days to decide if the primary candidate is acceptable. If, after thirty days, you are not satisfied with your mate, you will be assigned another mate on that world and transferred. You will have thirty days to accept or reject each candidate until you settle down with a mate.”

“Do they… I mean, does he have the opportunity to reject me?” I’d been rejected by men. Many times. What would make a man on some far-off planet be any different?

“The matching program’s success rate is well over ninety-eight percent. You have completed the testing and we have confirmed your personal placement. I am confident you will be settled sufficiently. These mates, depending on the planet, need women to sustain their race, their culture, and their way of life. Females are valuable, Miss Day. This is why the interplanetary treaty was put in place. If, however, your mate finds you… unsatisfactory, you will be matched to another male on that world. Remember, you were matched to the world first, the mate second.”

“Will my mate know that I’ve been convicted of a crime?”

“Of course. The treaty demands full disclosure.”

“And they’re desperate enough to accept convicts?” I had never been found worthy enough to be a girlfriend, let alone a wife. Why would someone want me now that I was a convicted murderer? “Aren’t they afraid that I might murder them in their sleep?” I wouldn’t do that, but surely they didn’t know that. And would I be punished on their world for a crime I had supposedly committed here, on Earth?

The woman pursed her lips. “I guarantee, Miss Day, that when you meet any of the mates on any of the planets, you will understand. Rest assured that being murdered by a woman such as yourself will not be one of their concerns.”

I glanced down at myself in the drab, plain prison garb. I wasn’t a waif. I was… curvy. Even the stress of the past couple weeks, the upcoming trial and all that entailed, hadn’t changed my weight. I hadn’t seen a real mirror or any makeup in that time, so I could only imagine what I looked like. If I ended up with my mate looking like this, surely he’d refuse me even before he said hello.

The woman glanced at her tablet. “Are you done with your questions? I have another woman to process today.”

There really wasn’t much choice. I nodded. “I’m… I’m ready—” I swallowed. It was harder than I thought it would be to say the words that would change my life. “I’m ready to go off-planet and I will accept placement based on the testing.”

The woman nodded decisively. “Very well.” She pushed a button and my chair angled back as if I were at the dental technician. “For the record, Miss Day, you have chosen to serve out your sentence under the direction of the Interstellar Bride Program. You have been assigned to a mate per testing protocols and will be transported off-planet, never to return to Earth. Is this correct?”

Holy mother of God, what had I done? I would come back to testify, but I was really going. “Yes.”

“Excellent.” She glanced down at her tablet. “The computer has assigned you to Trion.”

Trion? I scrambled through my memories looking for something, anything about that world. Nothing. I had nothing. Oh, God.

But maybe that world had been the one in my dream. The rugs. The almond oil. The huge cock…

“That world requires detailed physical preparation for their females. Therefore, your body must be properly prepared before we initiate transport.”

My body will be… what?

Warden Egara pushed the side of my chair and to my shock, the chair slid toward the wall where a large opening appeared. The examination chair slid, as if on a track, right into the newly revealed space on the other side of the wall. The tiny room was small, and glowing with a series of bright blue lights. The chair lurched to a stop and a robotic arm with a large needle slid silently up to my neck. I winced as it pierced my skin, then all I felt was a slight tingling at the injection site. A sense of lethargy and contentment made my body go limp as I was lowered into a bath of warm blue liquid. I was so warm, so numb…

“Just try to relax, Miss Day.” Her finger touched the display in her hand and her voice drifted to me as if from far, far away. “Your processing will begin in three… two… one…”

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