by Corin Cain
Brandy is standing at the entrance to the bathroom area, so she can be heard by both the women picking out their bedrooms and the ones still finishing up in the showers.
“Don’t be sad that you girls didn’t get a chance. I’m sure Kreos or Riff might choose one of you.”
“You’re sooo lucky,” one of the other girls murmurs. “I can’t believe Daran only wanted you.”
I recognize that girl’s voice. I don’t remember if her name is Anna or Stefanie – I keep mixing those two up.
I sit in my bedroom, forced to listen to this and rolling my eyes throughout.
Ugh. Brandy is insufferable.
Doesn’t she realize there are seven of us, and seven nights on this ship? She’s going to get a cruel surprise tomorrow when Daran wants to taste a different set of lips…
The thought gives me a little comfort. I already hate the fact that I’m not as special as I thought I was. I don’t think my heart can handle the thought that all three Aurelians view Brandy as different to the rest of us. That, one by one, they’ll take her – next Kreos, and finally Riff – and ignore the rest of us girls.
Now that would hurt.
Tiana pulls herself out of bed. “I’m going to go search for pajamas. Want me to grab you some?”
I force a smile. “Yes, please.”
I know I should go with her – but I’m worried that if I step out into that hallway, I’ll tackle Brandy like a quarterback.
Tiana leaves with a smile. There’s more giggling from the hallway.
“…and when I say all the rumors are true… I mean all of them. When you first see… it… you’re like: Oh, Gods, there’s no way that things going to fit inside of me! But then it’s just dripping that pearly, alien pre-cum and… Ahhh, it’s bliss. I really hope Kreos or Riff picks one of you tomorrow so you can get to experience it too.”
“But, like, how big was it?” That’s Rebecca’s voice, and she asks her question to a chorus of giggles.
“This big,” answers Brandy, and I know she’s motioning with her hands. There are a bunch of gasps, and I can’t resist. I jump down from my bunk and slap the door button – finally peeking my head out into the hallway.
Brandy is standing there holding her hands over a foot apart. I dart my head back inside before anyone can see me, and I bite my lip nervously.
Oh, fuuuuuuuuck!
She has to be exaggerating. There’s no fucking way a cock can be that big.
But then I remember the outline I saw, snaking down Riff’s suit pants.
Fuuuck!
And great... Now I’ve got that mental image in my head.
I hear the sound of the main doors to our dormitory hissing open. Is that one of the Aurelians? Come to give Brandy round two?
“What did I miss?” It’s Tiana’s voice, and I relax.
“Brandy was just giving us all the dirty details,” laughs Rebecca.
“Was not!” Brandy responds indignantly, as if she hadn’t just told us all how much Daran was packing inside his tailored pants.
Tiana comes back into our bedroom. She’s now dressed in comfy pajama shorts and a t-shirt, and she hands me a pair as well. The pajamas are bright pink – which I hate – but it’s my fault for not going with her, I suppose.
“Like them?”
“They’re g-great,” I smile through gritted teeth as I take them, and the incredible softness of the cotton at least makes up for the bright color. I might look ridiculous, but I’ll be comfy.
“I’m going to shut this door, because that girl can’t shut her trap,” Tiana hisses, closing the door softly behind her. Brandy’s newest tales of her sweaty coupling with the mob boss are blissfully muffled through the door, and so too are the latest peal of giggles that follow.
“I think I just need this day to end already,” I sigh, pulling myself under the covers. A silent fan starts overhead, cooling the room ever so slightly, and I have to admit that the AI made this room the perfect temperature for me.
“Me too. Uhhh. Dim lights? Lights off?” Tiana attempts to speak with the AI. It listens, apparently, and the light of the room dims…
…and then shuts off completely, so we’re in pitch black.
Tiana laughs, and I realize she’s never used an AI before. It’s another example of how privileged my upbringing was compared to hers. I’ve been used to having at AI controlling the climate and lights of home ever since I was born.
I think of the irony of it. I’m lying here in the darkness, furious at being a prisoner…
…whereas to Tiana, she’s found the closest thing to a dream life she could possibly have imagined.
11
Riff
A yawn cracks my jaw as I gaze out at the empty, infinite expanse of space. The auras of my two battle-brothers were like crashing waves, even as they slept, and I felt like I shouldered the burden of their uneasy sleep.
They’d telepathed me the plan.
My gold sovereign coin dances across my knuckles instinctively, as I consider all the angles of the plan they’d outlined. We’re going on the offensive – hardcore. It’s going to be all-out fucking war against Don Slip’nak and his Toad cartel.
“We’ve all gotta go sometime, I suppose.” I was speaking to myself, but as if summoned by my words, Kreos suddenly appears behind me.
Even with our Bond, he managed to surprise me a little. For such a huge, intimidating guy, Kreos can move as softly as a jungle cat.
There are no words between us. It used to be because he hated me and couldn’t understand why Daran kept me around. Now, his silence doesn’t mean anything at all. Kreos gained respect for me the night our minds were first linked, when I stepped in front of Toad with a pistol aimed at him, and took the bullet meant for him in my side instead. I took that Toad bastard out as I fell.
“AI can take it from here,” I turn in the pilot’s seat. “This is dead space, and once we cut engines, our heat signature will be miniscule.”
Kreos stares at me with those big, dead eyes of his. All Aurelians have the same slate-grey eyes, but Kreos manages to make his even more cold and unemotional. There’s never any sense of what he’s thinking in them – just an unnerving intensity.
I remember when Daran once took responsibility for solving a kidnapping case when the corrupt cops on Taton couldn’t find the guy responsible. We saved a little girl from Gods-know what fate he had in store for her, and I remember watching as Kreos squeezed the guy’s skull between his two huge hands until there was a sharp crack.
At no point – even as the man’s brains gushed over Kreos’ fingers like mush – did the Aurelian’s eyes show anything except that cold, dead stare.
It’s that same stare pointed at me now. Kreos grunts in response to my statement, not even telepathing his words to me.
But by this point, I’ve stopped being offended by it.
My belly rumbles. “Let’s get some grub.”
“Petra is a good chef,” he telepaths to me.
My eyebrows rise.
“You bastard! So, you are the first of us to taste her wares!”
Of course, my joke doesn’t even get a laugh from the silent beast. Tough crowd. I’m used to it.
I snap my fingers. “AI, you’ve got the wheel.”
“Affirmative,” comes the soft voice of the AI. We could have chosen any voice for the ship’s onboard computer, but I like this one. Some guys like to have a military man barking at you. When I’m in combat, I’d rather the last thing I hear be the sultry tones of a woman.
Kreos walks down the hall, and I follow him. “I’ll wake the girls up,” I say, as he enters the dining hall. We’ve got a full kitchen set up, but it hasn’t been used in months. I make one thing and one thing only. Steak – bloody rare – and it’s the only thing I’ll eat for weeks at a time.
Until then, we’ve just been eating pre-packaged meals. The AI ordered some groceries to be delivered to the fridge, just in case one of the new acquisitions was a good c
ook, but I’ve got no clue what we’ve got in there. I was just planning on searing a couple of pounds of meat and chomping down.
I pause in front of the door to the women’s dormitory. I could just walk in. It is our ship after all, and technically these women are our property…
…but Petra might get all indignant again.
Then again, she does look quite appealing when she’s indignant.
The thought’s idiotic. Petra’s a smoke show, whatever she’s doing. Maybe she’s asleep right now, all snuggled up under the blankets.
My mind suddenly floods with a vision of her sleeping. How fucking good would it feel to have my arms wrapped around her? That gorgeous, full bottom pressed up against my…
I cough, clearing my thoughts before my cock can surge to attention. I don’t want to go into that room at full mast – or that Brandy girl might try to hop onto my cock before I can stop her!
I press the smaller, blue button beside the one that opens the door. It’s connected to a speaker inside the bed chambers. I get the sudden urge to crow like a rooster, but I manage to push the impulse aside. These women already think I’m strange enough without adding fuel to the fire!
I’m considered quite the goofball by Aurelian standards – most of our species are stoic and silent, especially the haughty assholes from the Empire. Mind you, that’s never stopped me from bedding any human women.
All but one.
The only women in my life who’s ever resisted me is the only one that’s ever truly got beneath my skin.
Petra.
Petra, Petra, Petra. How do I know I’ll be thinking about that name for the rest of my life?
I murmur into the speaker, and through the door I can hear the muffled sound of my voice through the speakers.
“Ladies, sleep time is over. Time to come out and…”
Before I even finish speaking, the door slides open.
Rebecca is standing there. Her lips are bright red, and it looks like she’s spent a couple of hours on her make-up. She’s wearing a short, black skirt and a tight, pink t-shirt with no bra underneath it. I know that, because her nipples are rock-hard.
I make a mental note to check the AI logs to see if she deliberately turned up the cold air in her room to illicit this effect.
I was expecting the attack from Brandy, but it looks like there’s a new contender. Frustration rises in me. The sight of a willing, desperate human female in front of me should bring up the mating urge in me. My cock should be rock-hard just at the sight of her.
I should grab Rebecca by the hair, drag her eagerly into my room, and fuck her hard until she cums so many times she forgets her own fucking name.
…but looking at her is like looking at a table.
I’m as sexually excited by her as I am by a fire extinguisher, or a plate.
Petra, what have you done to me?
“Riff! I can’t wait to cook for you,” she simpers, and I’m about to tell her that I was planning to get Petra to cook…
…but really, what’s the difference? Petra will probably get touchy about having to cook, anyway, so I might as well get some use out of this woman; since she ignites no sexual desire in me.
“Sure thing. Why don’t you get it started?”
Rebecca pauses, then smiles and slides by me. The space is large enough for two Aurelians to pass by without touching, but somehow her ass brushes against my crotch.
I look past her to see Petra staring at me with a toothbrush in her mouth. She’s dressed in bright pink pajamas.
“Looking good. Love that color on you.” I wink at her. How sweet would it be to turn her bottom that same shade of pink?
Petra’s eyes narrow into a glare. She turns and walks down the hall, disappearing into the hallway. The entire way she walks I’m hypnotized by the roll of her hips. That perfect, heart-shaped ass was all I’d thought about while I piloted the ship – all night long. I know I should be sleepy, but Petra riles something up inside of me.
“You’ve got to eat something!” I yell out, knowing she can hear me even though she doesn’t respond. Sleepy women are coming out of the woodwork from the other bed chambers, but they’re invisible as long as Petra remains in sight.
These other women… I can’t even remember any of their names.
What is wrong with me?
The last time we’d bought women from a slave-auction, I’d had my cock buried in every one of them by the second day.
Now, I just want to slam my fist through the wall. Every muscle in my body is telling me to run – not walk – down the hallway in pursuit of Petra. My cock is urging me to follow her into the bathroom and throw her against the wall – to take her hard against while the hot water of the shower washes the sweat off of us.
Oh, fuck…
The mental image is so vivid. I’d press her against the wall. At first, she might resist – but as I kiss her and grope her body with my huge hands, I know she’d melt within seconds; her nipples hardening to sensitive points and her pussy dripping with desire as I…
Fuck!
I turn and angrily stalk down the hallway in the opposite direction before I snap.
I slap my fist against the button to open the dining room doorway, and find Kreos sitting at the huge black table. It’s still got cracks in it from smashing it the night before. The AI might be good, but I’d felt what Daran did. He planned the attack against Don Slip’nak and that rage of his boiled up inside of him until it had to be unleashed.
Through our Bond, I felt the pain shoot into him from the splintered shards of the table; and the clarity it brought him.
Daran… His aura gets like that sometimes. Inside my mind it’s like a well of black oil, buried deep in his psyche, bubbling up at any provocation.
I know it’s not his fault. Daran’s father was a proud man. He defied Aurelian law and cloned himself despite the damage to his DNA from the burns he’d received. What came out of the cloning booth was an… imperfect copy.
An imperfect copy that turned you from a low-grade hustler to one of the three heads of the family.
That’s the irony of the artificial process that we Aurelians rely on to continue our species, in the absence of our fated mates. We clone ourselves at the point of death – making perfect genetic copies – but who we are is not defined by our genes alone.
Experiences. Emotions. They shape us as much as our DNA does.
For example, I’ll never be my father. I might share the exact same genetic material, but I’ll make my own fucking fate…
Rebecca is standing above the stovetop looking nervous. It’s probably because Kreos is sitting at the table like a mute giant.
“Do you like… pancakes?” Her voice cracks.
“We like pancakes,” I involuntarily smile at her, reassuring her with my grin. I could see the fear in her eyes and it’s just my nature to try and make her feel more comfortable.
Somebody needs to. Kreos doesn’t even acknowledge her. He’s dressed in a tight black t-shirt and workout shorts. I realize I forgot to change after my shift at the controls, because I was in such a hurry to catch even a glance of Petra.
I start to turn, ready to head to my room and change, but Rebecca gives me a pleading look. It’s as if she’s trying to tell me: Please, don’t leave me alone with this giant monster.
I shrug. “Kreos doesn’t bite – unless you’re into that.” The blush that comes to her cheeks tells me that she’s very into it.
I leave the room, trying not to imagine nibbling at Petra’s neck.
Gods-fucking-dammit! That woman is in my mind constantly, like an obsession.
I enter my chambers. I’ve got a nice set-up in my room. A big, custom-made bed. A huge closet for all my clothes. Unlike Daran and Kreos, I take a little pride in my appearance. I run my hand through my long, blonde hair. The hair on my head might be shoulder-length, but not a single hair grows elsewhere on my body.
Peering into my closet, I try to choose an outfit. I
want something comfortable.
I unzip my dress pants, throw them off, and change into thin workout pants instead. If Petra won’t let me work out my frustrations on her body, then I’ll work it out on my own, in the holo-boxing ring.
I pick out a black t-shirt, and pull it on as I open the door to grab breakfast…
…but then, suddenly, I then change my mind. At the last minute I realize I want to find a distraction from the thought of Petra’s nubile body in all the rows of colors.
12
Petra
The hot shower did nothing to help my racing mind.
I’d had this weird feeling that Riff was going to follow me into the bathroom… and I don’t know if I would have stopped him if he had.
Shivering, I grab the robe and step outside. I need to think about anything other than these three Aurelians.
As I return to our bedroom, I notice that Tiana works quickly. She’s already stocked our drawers with clothes from the walk-in closet. Most of it is a little bright for my taste, and I resolve to pick out something a little more in my style before I head to breakfast.
But the sudden smell of smoke takes that possibility away from me. Sniffing the air, I grab undergarments and throw on a light blue dress before running out into the hallway.
The sight of Riff, totally shirtless, stops me in my tracks.
He’s looking in the mirror in the hallway, pulling on a light, lilac t-shirt over his broad shoulders.
Oh, Gods! Can you say v-taper? Because that back of his is a perfect v-taper.
Before I can drool too much, Riff turns and winks at me, pulling the shirt down over the rest of his tightly-muscled torso.
Before he pulls the t-shirt down over it, I spot a tiny mark to the left of his abs that looks like a gunshot wound. It reminds me that these guys might be good looking, but they’re dangerous.