by Marcus Sloss
A single occupant entered the water. A trio of sirens dove down into blue waves to retrieve their prize. Jarod watched them swim with an efficiency akin to ballet. Sirens were so smooth in water. Bubbles cleared her throat for attention.
“I must apologize. Our ways are… different. Yes, that word works best here. I knew you were a strong champion. You see the way of the gods now. I have done the work of the divine,” Bubbles said, wiping the dribble of blood off her cheek. Jarod was kissed with a lusty lip lock. When they parted, a coughing woman sputtered water as she was tossed onto the sea deck. “Oh, a toy.”
Jarod walked up to the woman. The bob of the boat was minimal as they drifted away from the golden portal.
“Where is Henry?” the woman asked. She went into a frantic scream seeing Roscoe. “Henry!”
Jarod grabbed her by the throat. He lifted her off the deck with his immense virum-infused arms.
“You will submit to my will and be a servant of the gods. Or you will be fed to the wolfman. Servant or death,” Jarod said with a smirk.
The woman’s bulging eyes continued to try to see the portal. Jarod ignored her for a moment to turn the autopilot on. The boat’s sails unfurled to snap with the wind. The electric motor hummed, allowing the boat’s drift to correct. With a building speed, the ship sailed for LA, California. Jarod forgot he was choking the woman until she kicked his leg.
He dropped her to allow her to breathe.
“How are you—”
“Your Henry is gone. I am Jarod. I am a loving husb— I am a loving man. You can serve me or die. Neat, you have a translator. I require thirty-five years in exchange for one meal a day and four glasses of water,” Jarod said while touching her translator with his offer. She instantly refused. Jarod cackled. “Last chance.” Jarod pointed to Roscoe. “Come here, Roscoe. Lick this servant’s throat for me.”
The woman’s bladder vacated when she saw the wolfman licking his chops hungrily. A yellow stain of liquid trailed off the floor for the rear of the boat.
“Good, I see your fear—”
She spat in Jarod’s face.
“Roscoe, kill her,” Jarod said without hesitation.
“That is not a good idea, champion,” Chorus said.
“Wait, Roscoe. Give me your weapon, Chorus. I am all for new soldiers. I like the idea of buying an army. What is the point of an army when they tell you your ideas are bad?” Jarod said, snatching the long-dart gun from Chorus’s hands. “I order you to not move, Chorus. That is how it works, right? I cannot harm you but you must obey unless it is in the contract. You are my slave, so stand there. This little woman can hurt you.”
Jarod slid the weapon into the terrified woman’s trembling hands. He aimed the weapon at Chorus’s chest.
“Do it, and I will return you to Henry. I—”
Snap, snap, snap.
Three darts flew into Chorus’s abdomen and out her back. The siren slumped against the freezer in shock from the sudden turn of events. Jarod peeled out a laughter of madness.
“Good, good. I will get you back to Henry. But you have to trust me, okay,” Jarod said. “I am not torturing her, so this should work.”
She nodded, her mind partially cracked. When Jarod sent the contract, she accepted. Another added servant to his army.
“Bubbles,” Jarod said for her attention. “She accepted my contract. Put her in my suite. Sing her into a stupor. She is your pet until you break her mind. Her new name is Meredith. I always liked that name. I will be down shortly with Roscoe.”
Roscoe turned his head in confusion. “Go wait above the hatch until you are called for,” Jarod commanded, and Roscoe obeyed.
That was exactly how Jarod liked it to be. He kneeled in front of a suffering Chorus.
“Do I toss you overboard or leave you on the ship and let your virum heal you?” Jarod said while gazing into the siren’s eyes. She glared with anger. He picked her up and flung her overboard. Chorus screamed until she splashed into the water. The sound of her crying for forgiveness faded until it was gone.
“Coral, did I make the right decision?”
“Always. She will have been a problem, my king. Most beta females of our kind that are sold are done so for a reason. Better to get the exchange over having to remove them without gain later. Are you ready to go fast!?” Coral said with a slight jumping clap. “May I sit in your lap or do you want to save your seed for the wench down below?”
“You naughty vixen, you have been into the pirate movies. Want to help me break her in when she becomes Meredith?” Jarod said with a laugh. Coral nodded eagerly. “Excellent. You saw my warning with Bubbles. I am done playing games. I am the dominant alpha. You’re my tools and toys when I choose to be kind. Now, show me how this baby flies.”
“Yes, my king,” Coral said. She hit a few buttons. A bottom propeller crested the yacht off the water in a hurry. Jarod was glued into the seat from the sudden acceleration. Coral glanced over her shoulder with a naughty smirk. She rubbed her plump ass into his crotch. “Ready for more, big boy?”
Jarod nodded. The sails altered to horizontal. Wings spread out from a folded mechanical contraption. Jets on the side of the hull fired up with an unknown propulsion source. A new button was pressed by Coral. There was a roar of noise and a whoosh. Moments later, they were airborne.
The yacht stabilized into a plane without turbulence or even minor shaking. An advanced technology kept it perfectly stable. The only issue was that there was an intense wind as they shot forward with incredible speeds. Roscoe waved to get Jarod’s attention. He pointed at his chest, then down. Jarod nodded.
The flying sailboat never went more than a dozen feet over the waves. Jarod shrugged when he tried to figure out why. He knew it would be explained with time.
“Permission to go below?” a siren asked Jarod.
“Yes, relax, the cabin is nice and large,” Jarod said, gesturing to the cabin down below. He turned to Coral with a tilt of his head and asked, “Where did the baboons go?”
“They were hired, then sent back. That was the extent of our interaction. I am showing four days until we arrive in LA. What would you like to do to pass the time?” Coral asked while sliding a hand down Jarod’s pants.
A flicker of a memory leaped into his mind. A phobia of touch. As quick as the thought entered, it faded. His cock was grasped firmly. Jarod yanked her hand out. He left her pouting to follow him. He walked by the lounging sirens pouring themselves drinks. They smirked and smiled. Jarod realized Chorus was not liked that much among the group when he was handed a glass with a thank-you cheer. The group downed the whiskey and a second round was poured. Jarod set his glass down before it could be refilled.
Coral bounced in front of Jarod to open his cabin door. He strode in like the king he was. The sight he saw shocked him, which he was impressed by. Not much was able to give him that feeling lately.
Meredith was on all fours licking Roscoe’s belly. Bubbles gave a pout at the sight of new arrivals.
“I almost have her, may I continue?” Bubbles said.
Meredith shook her head trying to clear her confusion. Jarod could relate to that feeling. Bubbles sang into her left ear. Coral joined on the right.
Meredith swooned from the song. “Oh, Harry, or was it Henry?” Meredith said while licking the fuzzy abs of Roscoe.
Coral gently tugged down the woman’s pants. The woman was not a super fit, perfect babe. She had cellulite and chunky curves. Like a woman without the virum in control yet. It was somehow refreshing not to see perfection.
“Thank you, Bubbles, for the example. Pull her pants up, Coral. I want her mind wiped, not to rape her. When she becomes Meredith and forgets her past, then she can have an orgy with us. That means at some point you stop singing to her. Actually, you will only sing with my express permission. Convert her into Meredith still. Out of the room, Roscoe,” Jarod said, opening the door. “Just so you ladies know, even when you sang into my ear, I was always in cont
rol and willing.”
“We know. You are far more powerful than Meredith. She will get insatiable if you do not block her reproduction with stones,” Coral said, and Bubbles shot daggers with her eyes.
Jarod picked up on the gaze. He knew. He asked the mouse riding the motorcycle in his head about the virum and how they worked. That led to him finding out both Coral and Bubbles were without a child in the womb, which went down a road Bubbles thought he was oblivious to. Jarod had more important issues to address.
“Los Angeles has fourteen gates. I want to fly over it at at least ten thousand feet while we head straight for my home,” Jarod said. The ring around his neck displayed a map pulled from his Gpad. He had purchased an advanced communication device that did not need Gtowers to operate. LA was showing on a large overview. Aspen, Colorado, was on the far other side of the map. “I say we fly around—”
“Your grace, there has been an oversight. You have always said you wanted to only go here,” Coral said, pointing at LA. “I even studied our map to see if there were islands we could raid on the way to this location in an effort to please you. You never mentioned wanting to go inland so far. This ship uses the hydrogen from the ocean to travel. It cannot leave a water source. I guess what I am saying is that if we go by ground, it will be in a different vehicle. We can always find a golden portal and trade for a new vehicle when we arrive. A few days waiting should be easy on this luxury vessel.”
Jarod’s jaw twisted in a grimace. Coral let out an adorable eek. He rubbed her back, then tucked her into an embrace.
“Jane, we will save you. If we have to crash the gates of hell, we will save you.” Jarod released Carol and looked at Jane. Bubbles. That was Bubbles. He whipped his head, clearing his mind. “We will find somewhere quiet to land. We will loot, pillage, and ransack our way to glorious victory. All in the name of the gods. Our holy devotion will lead us to Aspen, where we will bring our army to secure my wife. Jane, or was it… Jill? Who is Jill? Jane is my everything.”
A mad cackling laugh escaped his lips at his ridiculous confusion. What did one woman’s name matter? He would recognize his wife when he saw her. He would put that child in her she always desired. There was no force on heaven, hell, or any alien planet that could stop him.
CHAPTER 1
“Hello, Winston, may I sit?” I asked, pointing to the stiff chair outside the well-decorated booth.
Video displays shifted images of unique aliens to the left and right of the blue-skinned vendor. The seven-fingered information seller gestured to the seat across from where he stood. He was naked again, causing me to grimace. I should have hardly been bothered. I had been naked lately, with those insatiable ladies of mine, more often than not myself. After I managed to make myself comfortable in the seat, I initiated a trade with Winston. Our translators sparked an arc of power, completing our nonbinding agreement.
“Five chairs? I am rarely impressed by new entries to the containment. Thank you for keeping your end of the deal and even including a bonus,” Winston said, revealing his jagged teeth with a smile. “I have brought an apprentice with me today.”
A form shimmered into existence at the side of the booth. I inspected her when she materialized from her invisibility. I set her name to Luna.
Species: Arimi - Individual Name: Luna - Rating: 10
The thought of who named the Arimi was erased when I studied her form. Luna was another virum-bodied being—with a thin, toned stomach, curvy hips, and supple breasts all in dark to light shades of blue. She was very naked. Her tail was thin and narrow, unlike a Crixxi’s. Other than a pair of feathery black eyebrows, the only hair on her graced the tip of her tail, with a tuft of black fur. Her head was bald with inset ears. Very blue, very alien, and yet sexy.
I saw two of the large tavers chairs spawn in the booth. Both Winston and Luna splayed their seven-fingered hands to grasp the armrests before sitting with what sounded like happy snarls.
“Ah, this is marvelous. I do enjoy a comfortable chair.” He smiled at me, all teeth. “Alright, Cap, I am impressed. Please, why don’t we conduct a trade? I did promise to pay for additional chairs. You tell me what you experienced over the last blue portal cycle and I will update your market information as the day moves along,” Winston said, adjusting his seat in the chair until his face relaxed into complete comfort. “They did such a fine job, I don't even want to add padding.”
“Yes, I agree with you, Master, this human is different from the others of his species. Is he an offshoot?” Luna asked.
“Indeed, excellent deduction. Humans managed to flee their quarantine to some extent. This … form of humanity grew into its own branch. Oblivious of the past it fled from,” Winston said to Luna, who nodded in understanding. He turned back to me, “Please, Cap, proceed.”
“Where to begin? I guess we can start with the Squibbles, as we named them,” I said as an update from Willow blinked on my Gpad.
“Operation turn Denver loot into raw materials going exceedingly well with all four portals open. Mom, Major Ulanda, and Torrez reporting positive results. They do not think we will hit max allowable transfer limits, even with all four blues to ourselves.” - Queen Willow
“We do not have this species on our list. This is an excellent find, Cap.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “May I access the full files you have on this alien race?”
I sent Winston the entire document Harvard had prepared with Lilith’s help. It was an overview of everything we had compiled. Lilith had anticipated this very moment and I was curious to see how Winston would react.
“So thorough, I could almost think you had an Arimi in your settlement. My goodness, I now see why.” Winston’s eyes studied a device projecting my information from the counter. His eyes fluttered as he digested the information. He gave a slight gasp when an image of a Divine-Ape flashed across the screen. “You had a very, very interesting blue rotation. Please,” he motioned for me to continue, which looked rather freaky with his seven fingered hand, “don’t let sending me this file stop you from letting me hear it from your own lips. A first-hand account often provides vital details overlooked in video summaries and reports.”
His statement reminded me of something I wanted to ask about. “Before I forget to mention it, there was a delay in the shifting of the gates from blue to gold. Did you experience that as well?” I asked, remembering having to wait an extra-long time for the gold market to open. “I am curious, because last time, after the blue portals fizzled out, the golden gates transitioned perfectly on cue.”
The blue alien grimaced. “I see you have picked a side in the debate of whether the proverbial gate gods are good or evil. I know the subject is far more complex than that and we stay neutral.” He raised a hand in response to the confused look on my face. “This leads to your question, which I will get to, if you have patience. The controllers of our quarantine dictate who, what, and where,” Winston said, settling comfortably back into his chair. “We Arimi consider ourselves custodians of knowledge. Our goal in life is to be the most informed. Across this grand market, there are hundreds of my kind setting up shop. For each of the gates we control, there are teams of Arimi cruising the millions of stalls, gathering information.”
Luna touched her master’s arm delicately, seeking permission to interject. His tail wriggled in a tight circle; aliens were odd.
“What Master Winston is getting around to,” Luna continued, with Winston’s apparent permission, “is that the controlling hand that binds our fates is not perfect. There are times when the powers that be are slow.” Her brow wrinkled. “I think the longest we had to wait on a golden portal spawn was several days. That was…” Luna paused to tap on a nearby screen, “Four hundred years ago. For ages, eons, as long as many can remember, the Xgates were never late. They had no issues until recently, and we have detected no pattern as to when this will happen or if it will continue to happen. Our theory is the rapid expansion of—”
Winston held up a h
and.
“This is part of our exchange,” Winston said with a stern gaze, “so we’re clear.”
I inclined my head in agreement.
“The universe expands from one central point,” he continued, “and as that expansion spreads, planets cool, evolve, and establish life according to a predictable pattern in a certain time frame. Lately, we have had a great increase of planets birthing aggressive species that must be quarantined, which we think is stressing the system.” He looked at Luna. “This is just a theory. A sound theory, nonetheless. If this is the case, we may expect continued issues. Maybe even instead of firing four blues on average, we get only two. Who knows? We can only speculate. Simply know that not everything is running smoothly as of late.”
“Ah, thank you,” I smiled at his explanation, “that is reassuring. I was told something similar, though in a different fashion by the Divine-Apes. I also met a species called the Crixxi, who we have integrated into our society.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “In exchange for this data, I was hoping you could provide me with information with which I can save prisoners worthy of bringing to my home. As we speak, we are converting all our loot and I will have a large budget to get the things we need; personnel is high on that list.”
Luna cleared her throat and Winston’s tail twirled in another tight circle.
“You want to save slaves?” she asked, a tad confused. “There are many species who exist simply to serve. There is no freedom for them and they could use good homes. Is that what you seek?”
I nodded, and she raised a curious eyebrow. “Yes,” I said, “my goal is to help these species, so they can help us. We will convert poor contracts into three meals a day, good care, a nice place to sleep, and an early release upon exemplary behavior. That is my plan, at least. Other than Humans and Crixxi, I do not know of other species that would do well performing menial chores, raising children, and farming.” I paused, folding my hands into my lap. “We do get cold weather, but can provide clothing to address that … though, I guess we will have need of seamstresses and some craftsmen, too. I have a long list—”