by Corin Cain
I look at the three dusty, scared women. “Come in too! It looks nice.”
They shake their heads.
“Perhaps once you’re meeting with the Emperor,” says Sarah. “It wouldn’t be right for us to bath and play and keep him waiting longer for you.”
I nod – but I can’t take the wait a second longer. I strip and dive into the waters, delighting in the coolness.
It occurs to me that if I hadn’t met the Aurelians, I’d still be trapped on Bugra as a slave, in a filthy cell – or forced to serve a disgusting Toad. Instead, I’m now darting through cool waters, enjoying the play of liquid upon my skin.
All the filthiness is washed from me. I emerge from the pool, taking a huge breath in, and Elanor beckons me over to the edge of the pool with a smile.
The four of them wash my hair, massage me, and work as a team to get me ready. When I finally emerge from the water, they dry me off together, and Elanor searches the room for clothing.
There’s a light blue dress hanging in the closet
“The Aurelians have prepared for your arrival. This must be for your royal visit.”
She helps me into the dress, then the four of them apply powders and dyes to my face in front of a huge mirror – until I look more beautiful than I ever have before.
I can hardly recognize myself. When I looked into dusty, broken mirrors on the desert planet of Bugra, I saw a thin, dirty scavenger. Now I see myself as beautiful for the first time in my life. Elanor is an expert with make-up and powder, applying and shaping the cosmetics to enhance the contours of my face.
“We must go.”
Raegan’s harsh voice suddenly barks from the entrance to the chamber. I turn, and my legs feel weak.
For the first time since I’ve known him, he’s dressed. Raegan stands in full Orb-Armor, as do Karan and Baldur, standing behind him.
I can only imagine the cost of the plate armor. My vision blurs, drawn to the reality-distorting material of the Orb-material that covers him from feet to his chest. The hilt of an Orb-blade is at Raegan’s hip, angled perfectly so he could unsheathe it and destroy any enemy in an instant.
Raegan wears no helmet, his chiselled face imperious and blank. I feel far away from him. He looks regal and in control, and only the faint presence of his mind in mine gives me a sense of his thoughts – and those of his two blood-brothers.
I can still sense them, faintly. Raegan, Karan, and Baldur are all a mixture of honor and lust. Their desire for me is unrelenting, and yet at the same time they feel pride that they’ve been summoned by their Emperor.
“We found these suits of armor in the main room,” Raegan says gravely, explaining their outfits. “These are given only to the highest ranks of Aurelians. The Emperor has favored us.”
“So, don’t get too used to this estate. High-ranking Aurelians get much more lavish holdings,” Baldur adds, his voice like gravel. He has no laughter in his tone. Back on their home world, the three aliens are stone-cold. They stand straighter than they ever did, and their bodies radiate the threat of violence – as if ready to fight and kill at a moment’s notice.
As I walk towards them, I’ve never felt so safe – and yet so vulnerable – before.
Karan reaches down, his Orb-glove slick against my chin. Orb feels off, like somehow, it’s shifting reality around it even as it touches me. It feels like polished, slick stone as Karan forces me to look into his eyes with the pressure of his gloved hand.
“Jasmine, this is important. Do not speak unless spoken to in the presence of the Emperor.”
My temper flares. “I’m no slave,” I growl, and Elanor gasps at my defiance.
Karan takes his gloves off slowly, not saying a word. He hands them to Raegan. His bare, huge hands are in front of me.
“What do you think you’re going to do?” I challenge, and then I feel his mind surge in mine.
His dominance floods through my mind, and my body responds with submission. He grabs me before I can get away, throwing me over his shoulder – the thin material of my dress making me feel naked against the cool material of his armor. Karan’s hand easily lifts the hem of my dress, exposing my bare ass, and his huge palm slaps loudly against my naked skin.
“Here, you will obey,” he says flatly, but I can feel his lust growing with every painful spank on my bare bottom.
Despite the humiliation, my nipples harden in feverish lust, wetness growing between my legs as this dominant alien punishes me in front of everyone.
The slap of flesh-on-flesh rings out and echoes across the huge room. I gasp in pain at each hearty slap, and my mind fills with dark lust as I feel the triad of need growing. Dominating me brings out the beast in these three men.
Karan finally sets me down. I sway from side to side, breathing raggedly, and I instinctively look down at the floor in a gesture of submission.
Raegan and Baldur stride towards me, and I know they’re barely capable of stopping themselves from ripping off their armor and fucking me with dark passion, right in front of Elanor and the three former slaves.
“Follow,” growls Karan, barely holding control of his own lust as he walks away, his boots clinking across the floor as he puts his gloves back on.
Raegan and Baldur flank me as if they’re a guard of honor. I look up at Raegan with deep sympathy as we walk. I can feel the pain of his leg. He hasn’t seen a doctor yet.
“Raegan, surely there are medics here?”
He gives me a sidelong look, his eyes dull and angry. “You think I am weak?”
My mouth opens, but no words come out. I realize I’ve insulted his honor. On their home planet, the Aurelian traits of honor and stoicism grow.
I’m angry at them, yet more attracted than ever before. I understand now that they’d throw my family in jail if one of them broke their precious laws, but that they’d also die to save my mother or father’s life if they were called upon to do so.
Duty. Honor. That’s the Aurelian way.
Duty, honor, and complete dominance. If I’m anything but demure on their home world, I’ll shame them in front of their Emperor. I owe them my life – so I can swallow my pride for a moment or two.
I shudder as I realize I’m rationalizing it.
I want them to punish me. To train me. To break me down and make me their little fucktoy.
Dark lust pours through me as we walk down the streets. I observe Aurelians going through their days, sipping black coffee at cafes and lounging in parks – but when we come near, they all stop what they’re doing, frozen as they stare at us. Regular Aurelians appear to wear white togas as their standard attire, loose and comfortable. None are dressed in armor like Raegan, Karan and Baldur.
Invariably, the majority of these Aurelians have human women accompanying them. I shudder as I finally understand. The women who accompany the exclusively-male Aurelians are all dressed in thin gossamer of different colors. A few sit like equals beside their Aurelian counterparts, but most of the women are obviously submissive – their eyes cast downward.
The Aurelians seem to have no shame about sexuality, like we do on Terra. Lust fills me as we pass a blonde-haired human woman on her knees under a café table, her lips wrapped around the meaty cock of her Aurelian master; pleasuring him while his attention is on a screen in front of him.
They fuck in public like it’s nothing.
On the other side of a street, a human woman sits on her Aurelian’s lap, looking comically small in comparison. The Aurelian runs his enormous fingers up her thigh, teasing her wetness. She moans out openly…
…and then both of them freeze as we come near.
As we approach, no matter how huge or battle-scarred the Aurelians we pass are, they all bow their heads in respect of Karan, Raegan and Baldur.
Raegan, Baldur, and Karan must be very important now – that much is clear from the armor they’ve been permitted to wear. But why?
Only one Aurelian doesn’t bow his head. Sitting at a table, flanked by two of the most beauti
ful women I’ve ever seen, an older Aurelian with a barrel chest sits in a toga. His beard is grey and trimmed, and his chest is scarred many times. A brutal, old wound is near his heart, and on his marble-colored chest I can see every vein extending from that pumping organ; tinged green as if stained with poison.
Somehow, I know he survived a Scorp sting.
My eyes go wide as I feel the thought coming from Karan.
We can hear each other’s thoughts?
If the three of them can hear mine, they don’t make a move when I wordlessly ask that question. I think back to the first time I’d met the three of them – when they’d fall silent, as if they were having private conversations with each other. Maybe I can feel their emotions, but they must be able to telepathically communicate with each other.
And, perhaps me.
I suddenly understand that I shouldn’t make eye-contact with the bearded Aurelian – as if the thought is broadcast right into my head.
I lower my eyes, but it’s too late.
The bearded Aurelian stands. The two women by his side kneel down, lowering their heads.
“That armor looks pretty on you three,” he booms, laughing.
“General Asmod,” says Raegan, bowing his head respectfully, along with Karan and Baldur.
“I heard you killed a Scorp Queen. Impressive. But that’s not what the Emperor has showered you with favor for. That’s no accomplishment, just luck.”
If his words offend the three Aurelians, they don’t indicate it.
Asmod continues: “The Emperor believes you’re bonded to this woman. But why does she disrespect you so? Do you let her look at any other Aurelian that walks the streets?” He snorts disdainfully. “I’ve seen weak-willed scholars treating their women as equal, but for warriors to do so? It’s shameful.”
“We do not view humanity as toys for our pleasure,” says Raegan.
“They enjoy serving,” scoffs the General, and he runs his huge hand across the back of one of his kneeling women. She shivers, and my mouth opens as I see the pure lust in her eyes. She’s enjoying the humiliation of being forced to kneel beside this massive Aurelian.
“It is much greater a pleasure to have the service of a fiery woman than a submissive puppy,” Karan retorts, and he snaps his fingers.
I know instantly that he wants me to kneel like these other women. My pride fights me for a moment – but then I find myself sinking to the ground, lowering myself before my men.
“Very good. Perhaps I’ll need to find some stronger-minded women to break down and serve me. I’m surprised you let her out of your palace. If I had a bonded female, I’d keep her locked in my pleasure room, unable to do anything but take my seed until her belly grew fat with my heirs. Our race has grown weak since slavery was outlawed.”
Raegan’s aura tenses in my mind. “Slavery is an abomination. True submission is earned.”
General Asmod laughs. “Your politics are weak. Think, Raegan. We have not had a bonded-mate in over three-thousand years. With slavery, we could have our pick of many thousands of females – not just the ones who come crawling to join our harems.”
Karan growls. “It is not the Aurelian way. We earned her bond.”
General Asmod laughs again, deep and cruel. “I heard the only reason you found her was because all four of you were taken by a slaver. So, you must admit, without slavery, there would be no bond.”
Then the old man shakes his head.
“Forget these arguments. We should not keep the Emperor waiting.”
My nipples are hard as rocks from my submission, and I’m wetter than ever before. I can’t believe I’m kneeling on the ground while these powerful men speak about me as if I’m a possession.
Raegan breathes in, tasting me, and his lust surges in my mind. He pulls me to my feet, and as we walk towards the huge palace looming above us, he murmurs:
“That one is dangerous.”
We walk towards the palace. It seems too big to be real – the marble shining white in the sun, reflecting purity.
“It’s good you knelt,” says Karan, pleased with me. “You saved us much face.” His approval fills my mind, making me feel proud.
Oh, God. I feel proud to humiliate myself for him. What I have I become?
“Serving us is intoxicating to you,” Karan can sense my conflicted emotions. “After we meet with the Emperor, we’ll show you an Aurelian pleasure room. You’ll lose your mind in the ecstasy of both punishment and pleasure.”
I shudder, not able to meet his eyes. I have no idea what a pleasure room is, but I know it’s going to be an experience I’ll likely never forget.
14
Raegan
I walk into the throne room of the Emperor with my spine straight. Every step sends agony through my leg, but I push it back. I’m on guard ever since our encounter with General Asmod. He’s a strong political figure and powerful warrior. Now, he’s the strongest political force advocating a return to the old ways of the Aurelian Empire – to slavery, and the conquest of harems of thousands of slaves.
Before my century of service fighting the Scorps, I remember an impassioned speech Asmod made – arguing that humanity should be made to serve the Aurelians. It seemed a little too close to slavery for my tastes even then; before I experienced slavery first hand.
General Asmod has a harem of hundreds of women, all submissive and eager for his attention. I know in my heart that they all choose to be his servants – that human females by nature ache to serve our species. But Asmod’s speech went beyond that, and at the time he boasted he could bring the human empire to its knees with a fleet of Reavers, and finally show them what it means to truly serve.
A harem of consenting human females, eager to serve our every need, is very different to a harem of slaves.
I shudder as I glance sideways at Jasmine. Seeing her kneel was like a drug to me. Her blue dress is thin and hides nothing of her perfect curves, or her hard nipples. Her arousal is clear to me. I can smell her scent, even from here. She is begging to be filled with my seed again – a bitch in heat for our use. My muscles tense as I imagine taking her in a pleasure room. Lifting her and licking her sopping wet pussy until she begs me to stop. Spanking her, and whipping her – forcing my throbbing cock into all her holes and seeding her again and again, until she bears an army of my children.
It takes every effort to force the lust back in my mind as we walk down the path towards the throne room.
We enter, and the Emperor sits before us.
He’s a towering man with a huge, white beard, his face lined by wrinkles. He’s three-thousand-years-old, nearing the end of his life. Three human women stand next to him. He has great respect for human females, and the three women look at us challengingly as we enter; much more boldly than the women we saw on the streets of the capital.
The Emperor’s eyes are a pure, deep purple. Only those born of a human mother have eyes of such color.
Human-born Aurelians, and those who are in the throes of bonding.
“Raegan! Karan! Baldur! I have heard the stories and I must know if they are true.”
We bow. Rows of seats are filled with the Aurelian elite. Only General Asmod is missing, for he has publicly stated that the bond between humans and Aurelians is an atrocity – that it warps the logical minds of the great species and reduces us to animals. He views the bond as a necessity for our Empire, but thinks that bonded females should be kept in chains until they are impregnated.
I look up at the Emperor, and state: “The stories are all true.”
“Bring her forward, then.”
My muscles tenses as the Emperor beckons towards Jasmine. I know he’ll do nothing to hurt her, but the thought of her near another Aurelian activates some primal part of my brain. My eyes widen as I realize, in a horrific instant, that if I had to, I’d kill the Emperor himself to protect her.
Blasphemy!
Jasmine walks forward demurely. The Emperor studies her.
“A fine specimen. Human, what is your name?”
Jasmine looks up at him, meeting his eyes. “Jasmine,” she says, and I feel her courage. I’m proud of her.
“And you are bonded to these three men?”
She nods.
The Emperor smiles for the first time in decades. His wizened face may be old, but his gaze is still strong.
“If this is true, it means great things for the Aurelian empire. It has been three-thousand and twenty-two years since we had an Aurelian born of a human mother. Our race has been slowly dying – our population losing members to war and accidents, whittling away at our numbers. For only when an Aurelian dies of old age can his genetic clone be resurrected. One death, for one life.”
The Emperor leans forward, and tells Jasmine:
“If you are truly bonded, you will be able to bear your bonded-mates many strong, powerful sons. We can reclaim worlds torn asunder by Scorp raids. We can bring back the rule of law to the lawless regions of the universe. So, I must know for certain!”
I pause, looking at Jasmine and tasting her need. I begin to pull the armor from my body, piece by piece. She turns, confused.
15
Jasmine
The Emperor makes it sound like he expects me to bear a whole new generation of Aurelians. How could I be expected to bear Karan, Baldur, and Raegan so many sons? Aurelians live thousands of years, but I’m only a human. I will be dead and gone in just a heartbeat for them, to be replaced by a harem soon enough.
Then it hits me. The Emperor wants proof that we are bonded. That’s why the three Aurelians are pulling off their armor. I turn and stare out at the huge crowd of Aurelian nobility gathered around us, all watching with curiosity. Their eyes are light and bright, like flakes of granite.
Lust builds in the triad of minds I’m bonded to.
I sense what Karan, Baldur and Raegan are thinking. There’s only one way to prove the bond. Their eyes must flash colors as they ravage me.
Shame burns my cheeks as I realize I’m about to be taken again by these three, huge aliens – in front of another crowd, no less.