by Sabrina Kade
Only takes a few cruel clients for a human female to learn their place in the galaxy.
My spine stiffens, and I glance around the room with a different set of eyes. I don’t know a lot about these girls. Maybe a bunch is newbies, and yet, here we all are, together and possibly going to be carriers for another race. If we can’t trust each other, who can we trust? If we didn’t know each other, who could we turn to when things got tough? We’re twenty women of all shapes, sizes, races, and ethnicity, but one fact tied us all together. We needed money. We would do anything to get it.
We all had to find a way to get along because maybe the next time a fight broke out, we wouldn’t be able to stop it. My eyes drift to the newbies like Phoebe and others I haven’t met.
“We have to find a way to get along,” I say, rising to my feet at last.
A silence falls over the enclosed space.
“We’re going to land in an hour, and I don’t know most of your names.”
“Why do we need to learn each other’s names?” Arizona asks, frowning.
“We’re all in this together. Think about it. We’re going to a planet where we have no idea what to expect other than some information about the weather. It’s rainy. It could be hot. It could be cold. We could be with kind aliens, or not so kind.”
“Drakens,” Sloane whispers.
“We don’t know,” I say, “but the point is that we’re all going to be there together. Shouldn’t we at least know each other’s names?”
“That’s rich coming from you.”
I snap my head around to find the owner of the voice. Narrowed black eyes glare back at me, but they’re glassy too. Her hair matches her eyes, pulled up into a tight braid. She’s pretty and looks to be Native American. High cheekbones appear as she sucks her lower lip as though trying to build the courage to speak again now that I’m focused on her. I search over her face several times, trying to place her, but nothing comes. I grow angry.
“Do I know you?” I ask.
“No. I guess you wouldn’t.” She slowly rises to her feet, and though she’s young looking, she’s also tall. I lift my chin as she ambles closer. “I’ve been on assignments with you. I know who you are, but you never seemed interested in getting to know anyone. Do you have the slightest idea who I am?”
I swallow as everyone’s eyes drift over. I’m under the spotlight now. “No.”
“My name’s Celeste Cameron,” she says thickly, as though it pains her to speak. “And I was with you on the Kyet mission. Do you remember me now?” As though to explain herself, she lifts her thick braid and pulls it tightly, making herself wince.
My eyes widen — the braid. Of course. I swallow again. “Celeste. Y-yes. I do remember you. Sorry.”
“Spare me.” She releases her braid and takes a step back. “You watched and laughed and charmed other clients while I hung there by my hair. You watched. You never asked if I was okay and you never bothered to know me. And now suddenly, you expect everyone to run and listen to your words because you’re finally afraid?” A cruel smile flickers across her stunning features. “I hope you’re afraid. Now maybe you’ll know what I felt like for the months I was in Kyet. For months I was nothing but a toy.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again, meaning it. My face grows hot. “Okay? I’m so sorry. You’re right. I didn’t want to know who you were. I didn’t want to know who most of you are.” I wave my arms around the room. “But I want to know now. I have to know. If we’re going to be carriers, we’ll need other for support. I’ve seen girls get pregnant and it’s not always the same as we’ve seen growing up. We’ll need each other.” I grab Celeste’s thin arm, pulling her back to me. “I’ll need you guys too, okay?”
Celeste’s black eyes dart back and forth. Her arm tenses under my grip, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she frowns and wilts like a dying flower. How often did a hold like mine turn into something much rougher? I release her slowly, and her posture relaxes. My lips curl up tentatively.
“I’m Blythe,” I say softly, introducing myself no matter how silly I sound. “I’m twenty-four. I loved Swedish Fish and dollar store lavender face masks before I signed up for this.” Celeste looks unsure, and I worry I’ve already lost her. Maybe my apologies came too late.
“Ellis Roth,” a voice chirps. I look past Celeste’s shoulder to find the mixed-race girl with thick thighs and gorgeous curly hair standing up. “I’m twenty-five. I loved horror movies and young adult books before I signed up for this.”
“Layla Sullivan,” says the baby-faced one. “I’m nineteen, but I’ve been doing this since I was sixteen.” Her near black eyes dart around as though expecting judgment, but none comes. “I lied about my age to get the money. I loved my little brother before I signed up for this. He’s the reason I’m here.”
Phoebe stands, trying to put on her bravest grin as Arizona and her crew eyes her skeptically. “Phoebe Harvard. Eighteen years old, and I’m still excited to be here. People are good at the end of the day. All people. And this is a hell of a lot better than rotting away in Idaho.” She sits again. “I like books that aren’t too hard to read.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, genuinely curious for an explanation.
“Sometimes words jump on the pages for me.”
“You probably have Dyslexia,” York offers, softening slightly.
Phoebe pouts. “People always say it’s because I’m stupid.”
No one bothers to correct her, but York finally decides to stand up. Getting her on my side is something to get excited about. She’s smart. Fucking brilliant and, with her, I’m less worried about Arizona and her friends.
“York Albright. Twenty-one. I loved documentaries and cheap red wine.”
“You still do, I bet,” I say.
“When my owners allow me to drink, I do not take what they offer me.” York takes a seat as some of the girls remain focused on her. She’s embarrassed by the attention. “Someone else say something.”
I glance towards Arizona, Alaska, Dakota, and Kansas. “Any of you want to say something?”
Arizona purses her lips. “Like what? Kumbaya or some shit? Should we all hold hands and sing? Say a prayer? Say everything happens for a reason? Or maybe we should smack each other on the asses with wooden paddles and say we’re sorority sisters for life? This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. We’re not here to become friends.”
“That’d mean a lot more if you didn’t always have your posse,” York points out.
Arizona’s dark eyes blazed. “That’s different, you bitch. You don’t know what we’ve been through.”
“So tell us,” I say.
“No,” Arizona snaps, spinning towards me. “And I don’t need you telling me what to do or who I will and won’t need. I have my girls, and they’re the only ones I trust. I don’t trust you, or you, or any of you silent fuckers who don't dare to say anything.” She points her finger at a corner of the room where several girls continue to remain silent and staring. “As far as I’m concerned, the only people I can trust are my girls and me. I don’t need any of you! And even if I do have to carry some alien’s baby, that’s fine. They’re all the same anyway. I’ve done it before, and I can do it again. I don’t need sorority sisters.” Her tanned cheeks flush as Alaska touches her forearm. “Whatever, I’m fine.”
“You could tell them,” Alaska says softly.
“Screw you,” Arizona snaps, shooting up to her feet. “I’m going to pee.”
As the door shuts behind her, I try not to let Arizona’s pissy behavior bother me. “Anyone else want to say hello?” I ask, putting on a fake smile for the girls in the corner watching me warily. “Come on. Please. If anything, can we at least know your names?”
They glance at each other. They glance at Alaska. They glance at the bathroom door where Arizona had disappeared behind.
“Adrienne,” one says with short brown hair and freckles. She quickly looks away and points at the beautiful Hispanic looking chi
ck and the hottest chick on the entire mission. “That’s Mia and Lacey.”
“Hey.” I wave as York does the same. Neither girl responds to either of us, but I can’t help but stare at Lacey. She’s one of the prettiest girls I’ve ever seen in my life. Like a model, actress, and socialite all rolled into one. Perfect, wavy black hair, pale skin, and light blue eyes. If I was a lesbian…
The two girls next to Mia and Lacey both glance up but remain silent. These two are incredibly fit and healthy. It would be nice for them to answer, to make sure they’re on our side, but they seem only to care about each other. I shake it off, trying not to be offended.
Sides? What am I talking about? This isn’t a game. No one’s going to win.
“Aoi Kane,” one says. She looks Asian with incredible black lined eyes and matching hair with a few red streaks.
“Krista.” Dark skin. Light eyes. Slim. Stunning like almost everyone else.
“Rhyan.” The tallest of all us, I bet. Over six feet. Blonde hair and green eyes. Neither looks natural at first, but I guess it’s whatever her last buyer wanted.
Finally, my attention drifts to a small girl huddled in a separate corner from everyone else.
“That’s everyone,” I shout, hoping to catch her attention. “Except you… what’s your name?” I tilt my head at the pale bundle of skin and bones in the corner, hoping to catch her eyes, but she only pulls her knees closer to her chest. She has the body of a model hidden under the ugly sack she’s wearing. “Not a talker?” I guess.
“Leave her,” Dakota says. “That’s Taya, and she never talks. That’s why clients like her so much. You leave her alone, and she’ll leave you alone.”
“That’s not the point—”
“Leave her,” Kansas insists. “Just leave her be.”
I accept defeat for the time being. It’s something. Now that I know everyone’s names, I can start matching faces with those names. Even some personalities and preferences. It’s a lot more than I had twenty minutes ago. And though it seems like Arizona wants nothing to do with learning about one another, I remember not to take it personally. As she said, I don’t know her story. I don’t know what she’s been through. I may have been only eighteen when I signed up to be an entertainer, but so did Arizona. She’s over thirty now, still going strong, and the life of an entertainer is a hard one. A tiring one. A humiliating one.
But we all signed up for this.
Well, to be fair I’m not sure if I would have signed up to be the carrier of some rich alien’s offspring, but I did sign up to entertain. I wanted to dance. I tried to make good money and send it back to my dad.
I never signed up to be Julia Roberts without a prince like Richard Gere to whisk me away.
And yet here I am, heading to my next assignment which, I will admit, does make me a little nervous. I never know how legal any of these assignments are. If someone gathers me up and says the name of my company and promises another chunk of contract money to be sent home, I go with them. I want to stay alive. I want to see another day. And in some hidden parts of the deepest crevices of my subconscious, I fantasize about going home and finding out if any of this meant anything to anybody.
Probably not, but I still want to live. I remember screaming that at an alien once.
Humans want to live, eh? His voice still left chills on my spine. Maybe you haven’t been doing this job long enough.
Maybe not.
Absently, I rub my lower stomach for a distraction. What would it be like to be pregnant? Would I be one of those chicks who got fat all over? Or would I be a walking beach ball? I smirk and almost find the courage to ask Arizona how it was for her. She said she did it before. A baby. I never imagined being a mother until now, and it’s not the worst thing in the world. A small smile creeps on my lips before I remember this won’t be my baby. I’d carry it, yes, but I won’t be its mother.
I quickly lower my hand as the ship slows.
We’re getting closer, so I try to focus on concerns that make more sense than physical changes with an alien’s baby inside me.
What will the natives be like? I prefer humanoids, but I know better than to hope for that. But at least with humanoids, it’s easier for me to understand what they expect. Sexually. It was a shock to find out what sex was like when there’s no dick. I shouldn’t expect a standard dick. After all, what kind of attractive humanoid aliens would pay for and ship twenty trained human females to possibly carry their offspring?
They had to be something like a Draken, Octonod, or Pluef.
They had to be, otherwise, why would they pay for us?
Nothing else makes sense.
“Fuck me,” I mutter, slumping to the floor.
“That’s what he said.” York quirks a small smile in my direction. I have to return the smile; otherwise, I’ll have to focus on my racing heartbeat. Some girls smile uncomfortably, but those quickly fall away as the ship lurches to a halt.
“We’re here,” Ellis says.
No one responds.
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Preview of Guarded by the Alien
CHAPTER ONE
YORK
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“He’s watching you again.” There’s a hint of laughter in Layla’s voice as she glances towards the gaping hole at the front of the Gathering Room. My current accommodation is not the most welcoming, but considering I’m trapped on a rainy planet full of exiled Sidyths with nineteen other human entertainers, I guess I don’t have any reason to complain. There’s a place to piss, and there’s food and water being brought to us around the clock. And though I don’t like feeling like I’m in a cage for all these aliens to watch, I’m happy that so far, their eyes are the only thing they’ve had on us.
“York.” Layla’s voice hits an annoying squeak. “Did you hear me? He’s watching you.”
I don’t need to turn around to know who she’s talking about.
It’s been a few days since me and nineteen other women were dropped off for an assignment by a group of very rude aliens and then escorted to a lovelier accommodation Sidyths like to call a Gathering Room, and I’ve noticed one of these intimidating creatures has been keeping an eye on me.
For what, I’m not sure, but it’s not like the enormous alien says anything.
A few days ago, the twenty of us were divided into two groups, and luckily, I was stuck in the larger one. It’s not like I want to talk to everyone and be social, but the more girls there are, the less action I’ll have to see – in theory. It’s been almost a week, and there’s six girls in the second lair and thirteen, including me, in the first lair. One of the only women I trust – Blythe – was taken on the first day by the prince of the Sidyths and hasn’t been seen since. None of the others have tried to claim a female, but that doesn’t mean we’re in the clear. They could be waiting for a holiday of some sort. Who knows? I’m rarely content with a new assignment, and when I do get comfortable, I become bored easily.
I’m growing more comfortable, but I’m not bored. The seven-foot scaled alien watching me is enough to keep me on edge. He’s there almost every day. Standing. Silent. Waiting. Watching.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention almost every time he’s nearby.
Sidyths are not what most would consider a fun stop on the Human Whore tour. For one, they’re usually at least six and a half feet tall and pale like a Twilight vampire. They’re also covered in scales on various parts of their face, shoulders, arms, stomachs or legs. I’m pretty sure there’s also scales on their cocks because sometimes my secret admirer’s package slips free from his tiny shorts. Sidyths are also bulky and covered in lean muscle that could easily choke the life out of me if I don’t do what they ask.
The weirdest thing of all? None of them, not even Captain Dick Slip, has asked me to do anything. Or any of us, for that matter.
“You should say something to him.” Ellis pushes a few stray strands of curly hair a
way from her face so she can fix her intense brown eyes on mine. “Just so he’ll stop staring in here. It’s kind of creepy, you know?”
“Maybe Blythe knows what’s up with him,” Kansas calls in a bored tone. “She certainly seems to have gotten friendly enough with the prince.” She rolls her hazel eyes and shares a smirk with Alaska who doesn’t say anything.
She hardly ever does. Bitch is fucking cranky, and I can’t say I blame her.
It’s obvious Blythe is the only one enjoying her time on this planet filled with Sidyths. We haven’t seen her, but thanks to our translators it isn’t difficult to figure out how things have progressed. It’s annoying, to say the least, but I can’t get too upset with her. I want to believe she’s part of the reason the rest of the Sidyths have left us alone.
We haven’t been forced to give pleasure, receive pleasure, or do anything odd since arriving.
I’m not used to this amount of freedom. I’m not used to having a choice.
For years that’s all I wanted. I got tired of people telling me how smart I am, and how I could do anything I wanted with my life.
You have many options, York.
You’re talented, York.
Do you understand how lucky you are, York? Do you understand how much potential you have?
Despite the frightening stranger with the inadequate shorts, I’m still not upset about my predicament. Here I am, in a Sidyth lair with a bunch of intergalactic space entertainers waiting for the specifics of my assignment.
Most of the girls who sign up for this line of work have obvious financial problems, but that isn’t the case with me. I only wanted something different. I wanted to escape my potential. Yes, I sound like a bratty princess, but if the same people who thought that saw me now, they’d laugh in my face. After all, they’d see my secret admirer with bulky arms crossed over a bulkier chest and searing golden yellow eyes that always seem to be watching what I’m up to.