by Corin Cain
This madman is betting my life on a fight. Just as I’d thought I’d escaped the clutches of the slimy grotesque creatures – now I face being handed over to another from their foul species; perhaps over Marcel’s dead body.
As if pondering this, the Bullfrog turns his big bulbous eyes over to me. His greedy stare runs hotly over my body - until Marcel takes a menacing step forward and places his huge, muscular bulk between me and the creature. I’m relieved to be protected from the Bullfrog’s gaze.
There’s another consequence, too. The presence of the towering Aurelian is even more striking now as he steps up close, and the Bullfrog’s jowls jiggle nervously.
“Okay,” two slimy hands are raised. “No fight. You pay twenty percent more – a good deal!”
“It is indeed,” accepts Marcel instantly.
The tension in the room evaporates, and the Bullfrog almost seems excited to watch Marcel fish a bar of blueish-steel credit from his armor. He tosses the credit bar towards the Bullfrog, as if tossing coins to a beggar. The irony is that the single, weighty bar is probably worth enough to set a beggar up for life.
There’s a wet slap as the creature catches the credit bar in one of his slimy hands, and those bulbous eyes widen as he examines it.
Then, the Bullfrog grins – happy not just to have saved face in front of the others of his kind, but also to have made a quick return on his recent purchase.
The Bullfrog looks around, nodding and grinning. In his mind, he’s won – coaxing a premium from the Aurelians, and proving once again that Bullfrogs are smarter than the rival species. Bullfrogs take such things very seriously – sharing some of the greedy nature of the Toad species, but also this never-ending desire to come out of every interaction as the dominant one.
But domination isn’t so straightforward – and I feel like the Aurelians are the victors as we watch the Bullfrog unhook the leash from around his wrist and toss it to the nearest of Marcel’s battle-brothers.
The Aurelian with the thick lips catches the leash easily, cuffing it to his wrist.
Now, there’s enough slack in the chain for Tessa to rush over to me. She doesn’t hug me – although I know she’s desperate to. She’s terrified. Tessa’s whole body trembles and I put my arms around her reassuringly, pulling her tightly to my chest and squeezing her.
Tessa doesn’t resist – too scared to move.
As for me? My mind is reeling. I can’t believe I did it. It just goes to show that Ling’s advice was right. Sometimes, pushing back isn’t the answer. Sometimes, surrendering gets you what you originally wanted.
Recovering Tessa from the Bullfrog is a hollow victory, however. She was purchased by the Aurelians, and that means she’s substituted one alien master for a trio of new ones.
But I know the Aurelians are a better bet than the Bullfrogs. Anything would have been a better bet. Despite swapping one form of slavery for another, I’m left with the sense that – for the first time since Ling died – I’ve done something right.
With no further word, Marcel turns and begins striding toward the stairs that lead out of the auction chamber. His battle-brothers follow – as if responding to a wordless command that Marcel never even verbalized.
The chain gets pulled taut, and I realize I can follow him, or be dragged along behind. I wonder if Marcel would even notice the extra weight. His biceps are bigger than my fucking head, and I’ve already seen his display of lethal power when he beheaded that Toad guard.
Resistance is truly futile, so I scrabble after him. I know just one squeeze of Marcel’s steel grip could kill a man, and I have no desire to see that or feel it.
I follow – just as there’s a splash behind me.
I don’t turn. I know the noise indicates that the next poor soul has been thrown into the auction pool from the walkway up above, but I can’t look back. If I look back, I’ll see how helpless I am. Perhaps I spared Tessa, but I’m powerless to save the splashing, frantic woman who was behind me – or the ones who’ll be thrown in after her
Eyes forward, I follow behind the huge Aurelian warrior. His two battle-brothers fall into formation behind us – Tessa chained to the wrist of the pale warrior with the thick, sensuous lips.
As we follow, I suddenly realize what I’d promised earlier.
I’d promised Marcel that I’d do anything for them if they took Tessa with them.
Now, I face having to make good on that promise.
Gods! And I’ve lied to them!
These three warriors were expecting a new slave who might need to be broken in. Now, I’ve created the persona a docile, subservient little toy – one who’ll do whatever they ask of me.
The worst part? I hate that some part of me aches for this. Some part of me is fooled by the handsome, powerful exterior of the three Aurelians – and that’s blinded me to their nature.
My gut has never been wrong before, and right now it’s telling me – somehow – that it’s okay to trust these slave-trading Rogue Aurelians.
In fact…
My cheeks burn.
…my body seems to instinctively crave the idea of serving the three men.
But what service will they expect from me?
I’m not an idiot. I know what Aurelian warriors desire from human women. The entire universe knows.
Now, I’m left wondering if they’ll be able to control their mating rage when they expect me to make good on my promise. Will they be like lazy lions if I do so? Lounging back on their beds or a sofa, languid and magnificent, while expecting me to please them each one-by-one with my mouth?
I press my thighs together at the thought.
Alternatively, maybe they will succumb to that legendary frenzy of their species – the deep, instinctual need that turns an Aurelian into a rutting, sexual beast. Maybe they’ll make good on what I owe them - fucking me so hard I’m ruined?
The worst part? I’m getting wet just thinking about it.
I mean, I’ve heard all the rumors about the Aurelians. In hushed voices, I’ve heard people whisper and giggle as they talk about the violence and intensity of the Aurelian mating frenzy. It’s the most legendary facet of their species – rivaled only by their reputation for violence in battle – and, in those cases too, it’s always the Aurelians who seem to be swinging the biggest weapons.
My mouth turns dry as I’m led out of the auction room. I know where we must be headed – towards whatever private chambers they have on this Toad mothership.
I shiver, knowing that the moment we’re alone…
…the Aurelians are going to collect what I promised them.
4
We reach the top of the stairs. In addition to the auction chamber having dry floors, instead of the ankle-deep filth we had to wade through before, the humidity seems significantly lower the higher we climb.
At the top of the stairs, Marcel turns a corner and the atmosphere dries even further. I take a deep breath in and it’s not thick and heady as it was – and my skin feels less sticky and disgusting. We stride down a wide corridor, until we reach a big metal door at the end.
Marcel leads, and I follow behind with the chain pulled almost taut between us. Behind me stride Marcel’s two battle-brothers, and I can feel their lustful gaze burning holes through what remains of my clothes as they stare at me hotly.
You’d think it would make me feel uneasy, but the truth is that their hunger ignites something deep inside me – a part of myself I’d never known existed before.
The shameful truth? The moment the three Aurelians get me alone, part of me wants them to lose control and claim me. That part of me is becoming more and more controlling – building an inexorable need inside of me. I know I should feel hatred for these Rogue Aurelians – buying me at an auction like a piece of meat.
However, all I can honestly feel is gratitude – immense relief that I’m not destined to be dragged into the aquarium of that scarred, hateful Bullfrog. If I had been, the last moments of my life would
have been filled with shame, hate, and disgust – and I’d have never reemerged.
So, I have that to be grateful for – and as a newly-purchased slave, I didn’t think gratitude would be something I’d experience so quickly.
In addition to my relief at being spared from the Bullfrog, I’m feeling more and more comfortable with each step I take as the air dries. It’s a welcome change after hours spent in the dragging humidity of the Toad quarters – where the moisture hangs in the air like a cloud, and filth and stink teem all around.
Finally, we reach the towering metal door and Marcel slaps a keycard against the sensor. The big, steel doors slide open.
The room beyond is huge – even by the standards of a Toad mothership. It’s an open concept, luxury living facility – with a sofa, a well-stocked bar, and a full kitchen. To live like this on a Toad mothership? The Aurelians must certainly be guests of honor.
This just adds to my suspicion of the three men. I know they’re Rogue Aurelians – but even the Rogues have standards. What have these three Aurelians done that have aligned them with the immoral, craven, profit-thirsty Toad confederation?
Marcel enters, and I step forward to follow him – until Marcel stops so abruptly I almost barrel into the back of his huge, muscular frame.
Turning around, Marcel snaps his thick fingers.
“No,” he commands. “No bringing your filthy clothes in here. Strip! Put them in the compactor.”
He points to the wall – where there’s an opening for trash. His voice has an edge to it – as if he’s struggling to form words. I can feel the tension emanating off his body – radiating like heat.
As I listen to his command, the doors slide closed behind me – and I glance over my shoulder to see that all five of us have entered this sanctuary. Me, Tessa, and the three Aurelians.
But while this room – well-appointed, dry, and clean – might be a sanctuary on this Toad ship, it’s feeling more and more like a prison as the gaze of those Aurelians remain on me. I know if I strip and throw out my clothes, I’ll have nothing else to wear – and no doubt, that’s the point.
I’ll be naked with three towering, lustful aliens – creatures I’m grateful to but I don’t trust an inch. These Aurelians are three men I should hate on principle.
But it’s fucking hard to hate men this gorgeous. I know it’s a trick of my mind – that I’m weak, and feeble, and responding to the lies my tingling body is whispering to me…
…but I look at those huge, statue-like warriors and I find myself looking for any justification for why they might be on this Toad ship – anything other than the disgusting desire to profit off piracy and slave-trading.
I’m torn. I know they saved Tessa – when if they’d truly been monsters, they’d have just left her to her terrible fate, and fucked me regardless, without a care for my feelings. Instead, they listened to me beg to save her – and then they did.
Maybe I’m crazy – or maybe there’s something redeeming about these three. I know there is – there must be! Unless I’m just another foolish young woman, swayed by my hormones – just like most Aurelians view the rest of the comparatively short-lived human species.
While I was told to strip naked, it’s clear the rule about clothes isn’t only directed toward me. Marcel kicks off his big boots, too. They’re high enough that his pants didn’t get damp – but the boots land with a wet squish and I can understand why he wouldn’t want to track that damp filth across the clean flooring.
Then, without me even asking, Marcel unclips the leash from my neck, freeing me.
I freeze as he does so – his fingers grazing my skin and sending a tremble through my body. I have to press my thighs together at the intensity of it – and I shamefully ache for more.
I’m shocked by my reaction – and to him freeing me so readily. I certainly don’t protest, though. I’d imagined him dragging me into the bedroom without any rigmarole – yanking me, kicking and screaming by my leash, until he threw me across the bed and tore my clothes off.
We’ve been in these luxurious quarters for less than a minute now – but by this point, I’d already expected Marcel to be fucking me hard and fast, and his two battle-brothers to be patiently waiting their turn.
How terrible is it that part of me is disappointed that he hasn’t?
But then I look into Marcel’s slate-grey eyes and I instantly recognize that he’s tense. I wonder what could possibly throw this towering warrior off balance. I can’t believe it was the confrontation with that Bullfrog. At the time, Marcel’s eyes had flashed almost as if he’d have welcomed the Bullfrog attacking him.
The other two Aurelians kick their boots off. Then, all three of them pull their flak jackets and heavy pants off, throwing them into a huge bin that gobbles them up with a rumble – obviously an AI-controlled clothes washer and dryer.
But not one they want me putting my clothes in there. Marcel was very clear he wants my clothes gone – and I don’t want to disobey the seven-feet-tall alien warrior, not when he’s clearly on the verge of losing control.
But isn’t that what I want? Deep down, isn’t that what I’m craving?
The three Aurelians move to the couch, dressed now only in light shorts and fitted t-shirts. Their clothing is so tight that it emphasizes every sinew of their powerful thighs and the corded muscles of their huge chests and shoulders. The alien warriors lounge back against the couch, watching Tessa and I expectantly.
They move like dangerous jungle cats. They might appear to be lounging – but their taut muscles are straining, and I know that they could snap at any second. I watch their huge chests rise and fall as they breathe heavily. I feel like it’s taking every ounce of effort for the three predatory creatures to remain seated and not pounce across the room to rip my clothes off and force me up against the wall.
Tessa is the one to break the tension.
She starts ripping off her wet, clinging clothes like the fabric is scalding her.
“Fuck these fucking Toads – and their slimy, stinky ship!”
It’s as if Tessa is tearing off her frustration and terror at the same time as her clothes – bundling them all together and striding to the compactor shamelessly naked. With a snarl of satisfaction, she stuffs them in through the slot and slams her hand against the activation panel. The whir of blades emerges from behind the steel panels as her ruined clothing is shredded.
I watch her – impressed at her confidence and grace…
…but I’m the only one who does so.
The three Aurelians still have their eyes turned to me.
This is wrong.
They should be watching her. Gods, even I can’t take my eyes off Tessa – and I’m not a sex-crazed alien warrior.
The Aurelians should be staring at the beautiful, naked woman standing right in front of them. Tessa is nubile and lithe, and if the rumors about Aurelians are true, just the sight of her should have triggered the mating frenzy in each of them and sent them pouncing across the room. By now, Tessa should have found herself dragged towards the nearest bedroom – if the Aurelians could even wait that long.
But the entire time she was stripping, they stared straight at me.
I gulp – but it’s not the dry air that makes my mouth suddenly feel parched.
After a moment of hesitation, I surrender to the inevitable. After all, I’m already half-naked – my breasts are still bared and my shirt and bra are hanging from my shoulders like rags.
Heart pounding, I kick off my boots. Then, I tug at my clinging, soaked pants. I have to peel them down, off my thighs. The sensation makes my skin crawl – instantly conjuring the memory of wading through the swamp-like ship with my wrists and ankles shackled.
The ankle-deep water was brown and fetid, and the slimy secretions of the Toads who’d groped me are still plastered across my skin. I feel disgusting
“All of it.”
Marcel growls coldly, and I don’t hesitate to obey him. My body feels lik
e it’s autopilot – responding to his commands whether or not my brain wants to. It’s like his voice resonates deep inside of me.
Kicking aside my pants, I then hook my thumbs into my panties and slowly peel them down over the curves of my hips and ass.
I feel filthy and disgusting, and I know I must smell vile – yet the moment I pull my panties off from around my ankles, all three of the Aurelians take a deep breath in. They do so with perfect synchronicity – as one – and I know they’re tasting my scent.
My cheeks burn with humiliation as I scurry to the compactor – passing that washer and dryer system, but ignoring it completely. Instead, as ordered, I throw my pants and panties into the garbage chute, and my torn bra and shirt follow. It feels satisfying to slap the button and listen to the whir of the blades shredding my filthy clothes. I wish there was a way to shred the memories of today just as easily.
Marcel’s neck twitches as he watches me. I can feel the eyes of the Aurelians burning into me as I stand naked next to Tessa.
The leader of the Aurelians has to lick his suddenly dry lips before he speaks.
“Showers are in there, through the bedrooms.”
Marcel speaks harshly, his voice raspy with desire. I don’t know why he’s fighting his urges – I know he doesn’t have to. He has me – literally. I’m his property, bought and sold, and I’ve already promised him I’d do anything in return for rescuing Tessa.
Anything. What does that even entail?
I shiver at the possibilities. My body is betraying me as I stand there, naked in front of these three towering creatures. I can’t deny I have the overwhelming urge to drop to my knees and crawl across the floor to Marcel – to submit myself to him, on my knees and staring up at the mountainous warrior.
I know that he wants me. All three of them do. Those shorts are so tight that there’s no hiding it. Marcel’s huge cock is stretching down his thigh, growing bigger and firmer, and straining against the thin fabric of his shorts.
I gulp again as I watch the unmistakable silhouette of it – so clearly defined that I can make out the huge, bell-shaped head of his incredible cock.