by Corin Cain
Marcel’s nose twitches.
Shit!
He can actually smell my growing arousal.
But maybe this could work to my advantage.
“I want it,” I murmur to him, the words electric as they leave my lips.
If I’m going to save Tessa’s life, I need to surrender myself to Oblog’s despicable demand. But, similarly, I need the Aurelians to surrender, too – to throw away their pride and fuck me in front of the entire ship.
I need them to believe the lie that I ache for this twisted fate – because, with every moment that I spend with them, that lie becomes ever more true.
I can’t help but imagine how I’ll feel when those huge, thick, throbbing cocks split me open – pressing deep inside of me. I was told once that Aurelians drool pre-cum constantly when aroused – an evolutionary quirk designed for one purpose, and one purpose only…
…to allow them to thrust their huge cocks into tiny, little human females.
“I want it, Marcel,” I murmur, and then turn my eyes to his battle brothers. “Lucius, Quint – you need to do this. You need to lose control. Claim me. Make me yours!”
I walk up to the leader of the triad, barefoot and trembling. Slowly, I approach him, and my words are dripping like hot, sweet honey.
A moment later, I stand before him – Marcel looming over me like a giant. I reach up and run my hand across the pure, white linen of his toga; before reaching through the folds to feel his broad, smooth chest.
A tingle of desire shudders through me.
Marcel towers over me. When I’m with him, the crowd will disappear. There’ll be nothing but the three Aurelians – and me. The entire universe will cease to exist.
A low growl escapes Marcel’s throat. I glance down and see the outline of his cock surging upright beneath the linen of the toga. I take a step back.
“W-wait for tonight,” I breath softly, trying to sound seductive.
Inside, though, I’m terrified
I’m terrified these Aurelians won’t believe my lust for them. I’m scared they’d let an innocent woman die rather than break one of their society’s arbitrary rules.
They’re not Rogue – but to save Tessa, they’ll have to become so.
I turn to Quint. He’s suspicious, his eyes narrow. Out of all of them, he’s the one I need to convince.
“You three saved my life. If there’s a chance, I want to be Bonded to you.”
I whisper those words, and skeptical Quint is instantly convinced. That one word was all it took.
Bonded.
Aurelians spend their entire lives searching for their so-called Fated Mate. Most of their species dies never having found her. To them, the Bond is the most powerful force in the universe – the only way for them to sire natural-born sons and give their species a future.
Finally, Quint speaks.
He blinks slowly, then breathes in, savoring the scent of me.
“Yes,” he nods. “You may indeed be our Mate.”
Lucius paces the kitchen. Then, he turns his head, staring me down.
“If we do this,” he warns, “we may lose control, Jamie. It may be… difficult for you.”
His voice is raw with need, and I know he’s imagining fucking me hard and fast; succumbing to the mating frenzy as he sinks himself into the woman who could potentially be his Fated Mate.
“I know,” I nod, my face a mask. “It’s okay.”
But it’s not okay.
It’s very fucking far from okay
All three Aurelians have at least a foot of hard cock tenting out the front of their togas. There’s no doubt about it – any one of those steel-hard rods are going to ruin me. The thought of all three of them assailing me at once?
For a second, it seems like too much – as if the walls of the room are suddenly pressing inwards against me. I need to get away.
“Give me a moment,” I gasp – and, to my shame, tears spring to my eyes. I rush into the bedroom, closing the door behind me before they see me lose my composure completely.
I want to be strong. I need to be strong. I’m so scared that I’m still weak – that I don’t have what it takes to help Tessa.
I’m terrified I’m the same girl who left my best friend to die on that Bullfrog’s skewer, and then failed to avenge her afterward – creating an even more vindictive foe in the form of the Bullfrog I left scarred and vengeful.
Filled with sudden doubt, I wrench the pleasure dress off me, pulling it over my head as if it’s on fire. I need to be free of that never ceasing, tantalizing touch. It’s the dress that has made me so turned on by the thought of those three, gigantic warriors losing themselves to the mating rage.
It has to be, right? I’d never think such wicked thoughts otherwise.
Would I?
I shudder as I sit on the bed – naked and shivering.
I know in my heart that I can’t blame the pleasure dress for the dark urges bubbling up from within the darkest recesses of my mind.
Some part of me wants to surrender to the Aurelians.
Some part of me wonders if I was destined to, all along.
I wrestle with these dark urges for I-don’t-know-how-long – until I find myself sitting on the bed with no concept of how long it’s been since I fled from the three Aurelians.
Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door.
“Jamie?” It’s Marcel’s voice. “It’s time.”
I shiver. Even through the door, I can sense that Marcel is grave. Underneath his formality, however, is something more.
Hunger.
He wants me.
He wants me so badly he can barely hold back. It’s genuinely a mystery how he managed to hold on this long. The Aurelians’ loyalty to their code of the Empire is the only thing that has proven more powerful than the allure of claiming their Fated Mate; but with my insistence, that barrier has now been removed.
This is happening – and I don’t think Marcel or his battle-brothers could hold back now even if they tried.
“I’m coming,” I promise, as I stand on wobbly feet and reluctantly slip the pleasure dress back over my head. As I wriggle into the form-fitting gown, the fabric comes alive once again – tingling and teasing my body with almost sadistic sensuality.
At least I know they’ll try to be gentle…
…at first.
I know they’ll try.
But once the mating frenzy overwhelms them, there’ll be no more rational thought left in their sex-soaked minds. This is my fate, and I’ve condemned myself to it.
Smoothing down the front of my dress, I open the door.
The three Aurelians stand tall and proud on the other side – dressed in their ceremonial togas.
Thank the Gods, at least their cocks have softened – so I don’t have the constant visual reminder of how painful this is going to be.
Unless…
Unless somehow, I am Bonded to them.
I’ve heard all about the Bond. Only that mysterious connection would allow me to endure the roughness of the three of them without pain.
But what if I’m not their Fated Mate?
Or more terrifyingly, what if I am
“Where’s the main hall?”
I say it to distract myself from what’s going to happen.
“In the middle of the ship,” Marcel answers, with the haste of a man attempting to do the same thing. “I’ll carry you.”
I gulp. Being flung over his shoulder – like he’s a firefighter, saving me from a burning building – is more than I can handle right now.
Then, there’s a feeble knock at the door.
Lucius grunts something in the Toad language, and the AI opens the doors. In the corridor outside stands a Toad, quivering in fear. He’s sat in the driver’s seat of some hovering contraption – kind of like a hover-bike with a floating cart attached. The cart has seats, pillows, and blankets – which might have sounded exciting, except each of them is glistening and damp from the extre
me humidity of the mothership.
I’m utterly confused, until Lucius throws me a look which seems to answer all my questions.
Lord Oblog apparently wants us to arrive for our ‘spectacle’ without having exerted ourselves from the walk. Perhaps he wants to keep the Aurelian’s togas looking crisp and fresh, instead of forcing the warriors to wade through the ankle-deep water.
The Toad driving the contraption speaks in his guttural language, his voice croaking with fear. He winces as he delivers his message, closing his eyes tightly in expectation of a violent response.
In truth, he’s rightfully worried. After the Toad guard lost his head just a day earlier, it’s fair to be concerned that these three Aurelians might rip his head off merely for being part of this obscene display we’re expected to participate in.
As if confirming that worry, Lucius fondles the hilt of his Orb-Blade – and I know he’s imagining cutting this creature down right where he sits.
The Toad is uncomfortable enough already, with the dry air blasting him from the gaping doorway of the Aurelians’ living quarters. He cringes from it – as if it’s burning his moist skin.
I’ve never felt pity for a Toad before, but in this moment, I see that some of their species are just weak, scared servants.
But my sympathy is short-lived. I know that if this lowly Toad guard was given half a chance to own a human slave, he’d jump at the chance – and Toads can jump as high as the Old-Earth creatures for which humanity gave their race a name.
This Toad would be no different if given the responsibility of a human life. He’d keep her locked up in his filthy living quarters, chained and helpless, and the mental image instantly removes any and all sympathy from my thoughts.
I return to what is expected of us – and watch Marcel swing himself into the back of the carriage. The hovering vehicle buckles from his weight, and the thrusters brighten as they increase their lift to compensate.
As Marcel takes position, he reaches down his huge hand and helps me into the floating chariot.
I clamber in – but it feels like I’m being brought to my own execution. I’m dressed as a toy for the most depraved of men – and even the pleasure dress is dormant, as if it can feel my fear.
Lucius and Quint clamber into the back of the chariot, their breath ragged and heavy.
I know why. None of the triad have taken their eyes from me the moment we met – and now that Lord Oblog has demanded the three warriors claim me, it’s finally allowed them to unleash the broiling need bubbling up inside of them.
The Mating Rage is welling up. They can restrain themselves from taking me right here and now – but for how long?
I know, right now, that all three of them must be imagining what they’re going to do to me when they have the opportunity to. I know they have no choice in this matter – but part of me is horrified to know how badly they want this, even under these circumstances.
I just have to keep it out of my mind. For just a few moments more, I have the luxury of not thinking about it. If I do, it just becomes too real.
But how can I not? I feel so small, wedged in this weird little chariot between the three huge, muscular warriors. Their physical strength only makes me more aware of my lack of it – how I’m so much weaker and more helpless than they are.
But then I remember the old me, and what she achieved in partnership with Ling. I may be physically weaker – but there was a strength I used to be able to rely on. I need to draw on that strength now, to save myself, the Aurelians, and Tessa – to get us all off this ship.
If I allow myself to be weak and helpless, she’ll die.
I shift in my uncomfortable seat. The pillows are soaked with moisture. In the end, I toss them out into the water-filled hallway as we’re driven toward the Great Hall. The Toad pilot doesn’t even acknowledge me doing so as he guides us down the corridor.
As we go, I notice there’s not another Toad in sight in the empty hallways. Not a single one of them would dare stand in the way of us, anyway – not knowing the rage of the Aurelians – but it’s eerie to see this mothership so empty.
Finally, the carriage stops in front of a huge set of double doors that slide open automatically to welcome us – although it’s a sight I’d hardly call welcoming. These are not the doors that led us into the Great Hall earlier.
The Toad points at me, specifically – his finger shaking.
Lucius shifts his weight in the seat beside me – giving the Toad an unspoken warning that he’ll not allow me to go anywhere alone.
The Toad shakes his head, jowls quivering. Tears of fear roll down his glistening cheeks.
Lucius grunts something to him in the guttural, Toad tongue, and the driver of the little carriage cringes, pointing toward me again. Lucius then nods grimly and turns to face me as well.
“He says you have to go alone.”
I stiffen in my seat. This was not part of the plan.
As if sensing my concern, Lucius places a huge hand on my thigh.
“Just give me the word, Jamie, and I’ll rip his throat off and take the bike. We can still fight our way out of here.”
Maybe – but not without Tessa, and not without significant risk.
It’s not me I’m frightened for. It’s the thought of any or all of these magnificent warriors being killed simply because my fear forced them to fight. I need to remember that there’s more to strength than just physical power.
Strength of mind is an even more powerful weapon.
My mouth is dry even in the hot, humid air. I shake my head and pull myself up.
I know at my signal, Lucius would kill the Toad. He’d take the bike and lead us to their Aurelian Reaver vessel – but we’d have to leave Tessa behind.
I can’t do that to her. I must be strong.
“It’s okay,” I reassure Lucius. “I’ll go. I have to go.” I turn my eyes to meet the concerned gaze of all three warriors. “I’ll… I’ll see you soon, I promise.”
As I utter those words, I fix the three men in my mind – just in case I’m lying.
Marcel reluctantly helps me down from the carriage.
“I won’t let you get hurt,” he whispers to me, the grains of silver in his slate-grey eyes glinting in the light. I look into those eyes and see none of the coldness I’ve grown used to. Marcel is promising he’ll keep me safe, and I take comfort in the sincerity with which he makes that promise.
I take one last look at those huge, grey eyes – knowing it might be the last time I look into them before the mating frenzy steals what humanity this great, towering alien still possesses.
Then, with a final nod to my triad, I step through those huge, open doors and listen to them hiss closed behind me.
I’m all alone now, and as my eyes adjust to the unfamiliar light, I realize I’m standing on a stage.
Not just any stage – this is apparently the stage where I’m expected to be claimed by the three, towering warriors – in front of a jeering, cheering crowd of hundreds of disgusting Toads and Bullfrogs men who ache for me.
8
The stage is huge, surrounded by a cavernous ceiling looming high above me. There’s no curtain separating the stage from the audience, but that doesn’t concern me because I can’t even see the audience right now. A disrupter field shimmers in front of me, turning the air opaque. That’s what’s used as a stage curtain here, and I know on the other side of the impenetrable air are the braying crowd of Toads and Bullfrogs impatiently awaiting the show.
My legs shake. I steel myself, walking forward and taking in my surroundings. The floor looks like it’s crafted from white-veined marble, but it’s spongy and has a strange give to it. The air surrounding me clings to my skin – the dampness penetrating the pleasure dress and dulling the intensity of the squirming fabric.
In the middle of the stage rears a tall, wooden post. I swallow hard. Ropes dangle from it – and I know what twisted purpose they’re designed for.
Those rop
es that are going to hold me in place in front of the crowd. My legs will be spread for the Aurelian warriors to use me, and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’ll be helpless and trapped as the three, towering Aurelians lose themselves to the mating frenzy and fuck me like beasts. There’ll be nothing left of the calm, implacable Marcel – who watched me so protectively while I slept, with the tender gaze of a protective angel. There’ll be no biting quips or mocking confidence from Lucius, or the reserved, haunted sensitivity of Quint.
All three of them will descend into feral need – replacing the noble warriors with three brutal beasts who only have one need and nothing stopping them from fulfilling it.
The need to fuck me and seed me.
A shudder runs down my spine, and the pleasure dress starts up again; the squirming fabric teasing my body, touching and tantalizing every forbidden cleft the sheer material clings to.
Then, my eyes go wide, and the sensuality of the pleasure dress loses its edge. I’ve seen something even more compelling.
There’s a long splinter of wood sticking from the side of the towering post. I see it just as the doors open on the other side of the enormous stage, and out waddles Lord Oblog himself.
As I turn to face him, I dart my hand out – snatching the splinter of jagged wood and tearing the last of its roots from the tall post. Suitably armed, I palm the jagged, wooden spear against the inside of my wrist.
My mind is racing. I’m weaker and more vulnerable than any Toad, but that can work to my advantage. Lord Oblog has already demonstrated his confidence around the Aurelians. He probably doesn’t even look at me – a mere human slave girl – as any threat whatsoever.
But nothing could be further from the truth. Ling taught me well, and if I can get close enough to use this jagged splinter of wood, it might change everything.
All I’ll need is one, hard thrust – stabbing the wood right into one of Oblog’s bulbous eyes and deep into the brain matter beneath…
Ling always told me to visualize an attack before undertaking it, and I use her advice. As the Toad Lord shuffles onto the stage, licking his thick lips, I imagine everything about what I intend to do.