Alien Slave
By
Tracy St. John
(C) Copyright Tracy St. John, February 2012
978-1-60394-678-0
Published by New Concepts Publishing
Smashwords Edition
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Chapter 1
Reggie’s hypnotic trill lulled Dani as he slipped his penis into her. The swing that held her suspended in the air creaked as it moved back and forth in the middle of one of the brothel’s playrooms.
Dani barely felt the thin appendage as she floated in a calm sea of contentment. Sex with the Isetacian, one of her regulars since coming to Dantovon five months ago, was always pleasant. Reggie wasn’t much to look at, but that sweet warbling song that indicated his arousal made up for his lack of physical attractiveness. For all she knew, he was the handsomest man on Isetac. She’d found rating manly charm a futile exercise given the strange bodies and faces of the aliens who visited Dantovon.
Her large brown eyes half-lidded in trance, Dani traced the hard ridge of bone along Reggie’s back. It broke through his gray skin, a purplish-black lumpy crest. The first time she’d seen an Isetacian she’d thought the creature had been horrifically injured, its skin flayed to expose the skeleton along the spine and joints. When she’d discovered that was the norm for the six-legged race (or six-armed … with Isetacians, it was impossible to tell), she’d been both fascinated and repulsed.
Becoming a sex slave to get off the ruined hulk of Earth had been rife with surprises, good and bad alike.
For now, Dani was content to let Reggie sing to her while he plunged in and out, her long, lanky body suspended in the black straps of the swing. She’d gotten almost halfway through tonight’s shift at the brothel, and this was as good an intermission as she could hope to get. Isetacians didn’t require much from the sex slaves. Stroke their spines and the crowns of their bulbous heads, let them do their thing, and they were happy.
She let herself drift, Reggie’s trill taking her deeper still until her eyes closed, shutting out his face with its toothless mouth. She felt better not looking into the deep pits from which his tiny eyes peered. They circled his head in sets of two.
Dani’s closed eyes also shut out the small, dark playroom with its assortment of harnesses, restraints, and pleasure devices. She was grateful that Reggie was so easy to please. He had left it up to her as to whether she would hang in a suspension field or sit in the swing. For some reason the swing had appealed to her tonight.
A pair of Reggie’s hands/feet gripped her knees, holding her wide open. Another pair held the parts of her buttocks not covered by the swing’s straps. She possessed plenty of flesh for him to hang onto. For such a spindly woman, she thought she had a lot of backyard real estate. In contrast, her smallish breasts, while well-shaped, disappeared beneath the Isetacian’s three-fingered grasp. At almost six feet tall, Dani was an elongated pear when she didn’t think of herself as a big, galumphing horse.
Her customers didn’t seem to mind her awkward frame. Not that she cared about what they thought. As long as they paid her fee, lessening her contract in the too-small increments that meant she’d spend the next three to five years as a sex slave, they could regard her in any way they liked.
Dani sighed and made her mind contemplate things other than the contract that she’d signed impetuously, desperate to get off Earth. At the time, it had seemed a good idea. Guaranteed meals, safe shelter, and escape from being captured by the Kalquorian race that had destroyed her home world were a fair trade for sex, which she’d always been ambivalent about. Besides, Dani on Dantovon had a cute ring to it. How could it not be fated?
Reggie, whose real name was impossible for her to pronounce, deepened his voice, signaling he was close to climax. His scent intensified. He smelled like musty old books, the antique type with paper pages one turned. Dani sighed again. Her break was almost over, and she’d have to get back to real work soon. Like the Earther men she’d bedded, Reggie got done way too fast. She barely had time to enjoy herself.
Reggie’s hands tightened on her various body parts, and his tone deepened to a bass note, held for a good ten seconds as he spurted cold seed that ran down her thighs and dripped to the floor. The moment he was done, he scrambled down. Sitting back on four of his six limbs, he solicitously helped her from the swing. She stood, swaying from the aftereffects of his song. After a moment, the hypnotic trance he’d put her in faded. Dani shivered in the cool air. Putting on her smile with professionalism, she asked, “Did you have fun, Reggie?”
He gave her a gummy smile, peering up at her with two pairs of deep pitted eyes. “Ep, ep, you are always fun.”
“See you next week?” She wished the restful alien could visit more often.
Reggie shook his back end in affirmation. “I will book my appointment on my way out. Hopeful ship still run.”
Dani shook her head, her tousled red hair tumbling over her shoulders. “You have the most trouble with your transport.”
His rear shook more. “I fix all the time. Old ship, few parts.”
With a final goodbye, Reggie left. Dani washed her legs clean of his watery spend and yanked her clothes on. Like all humanoid sex slaves on Dantovon, her gray skirt, almost a color match for Reggie’s skin, was transparent from mid thigh down to its knee-length hem. The matching bra pushed her teacup breasts up. Dani thought it accentuated how small she was rather than enhancing her décolletage. Oh well. Big galumphing horses didn’t have boobs anyway. Clients were always more fascinated by the pert pink nipples than the size of her breasts.
Out of habit she tugged at the collar on her throat, the half-inch wide silvery metal that proclaimed her slave status. In actuality it weighed no more than any piece of jewelry Dani had owned on Earth. In her mind, it felt like an anvil hung from her neck.
She checked the chronometer. She was exactly halfway through her shift. It’s all downhill from here, she thought, trying to face the remainder of the night with optimism.
The door slid open, admitting Dani into the long hallway that ran the length of the brothel’s playroom area. Lights flickered here and there. They wouldn’t be changed by money-grubbing Pob until they went out entirely.
Dani kept to the center of the hall, mostly out of the reach of the guards positioned at regular intervals. Pob’s security wasn’t allowed to have sex with the prostitutes without paying for it, but they could grab the goods for a passing feel if they were so inclined. A side benefit of working in the house. Dani didn’t like to give anything away for free on principle.
As she absentmindedly dodged the gauntlet of hands, paws, claws, whatever the guards’ grabbing implements happened to be, the clamor of sex emitted from the closed doors, creating a web of sound. Sometimes the noises were happy, sometimes pained, but mostly it just sounded desperate to Dani.
She reached the lounge, her long legs covering the distance with quick efficiency. The light was brighter in here. Mirrored walls allowed the workers check their appearances before heading off to the next client. Couches of varying degrees of cleanliness and wellbeing scattered across the floor. Females of various species lounged on them; still others slept on the floor, grabbing rest between clients. Chatter was sparse, as if the air filled with colognes, perfumes, and the musk of alien sexual parts was too heavy to allow speech.
Dani checked the schedule, the red-lined vid suspended in the air near the door. A spark of anger made her snap at the attendant seated nearby.
“My next client is now?�
��
Husta, a native Dantovonian, rolled her lidless eye at Dani. The brothel owner’s sister’s segmented face didn’t allow much expression, but she managed to convey her dislike for Dani anyway. “We’re busy.”
Dani looked around the lounge where every available space was crowded with sex slaves. “Then why are so many lying around?”
“They’re not Earthers. You’re popular for whatever reason.” Husta’s long, cylindrical tongue flicked out of her tiny mouth. Dani knew the tongue scented the air, tasting the various aromas. Dantovonians looked like a science experiment gone terribly wrong, as if some mad laboratory had bred amphibians and insects with each other. Not pretty.
After testing the lounge’s questionable bouquet, Husta turned her head away dismissively. She knew as well as Dani did that Earthers as sex slaves were a rare commodity. Dani was the only Earther that worked in this brothel. For all she knew, she was the only Earther who worked on Dantovon. Most of the females of her race were far too repressed by their former home’s fanatical regime to sell their services.
Dani’s novelty kept her from having to work hard to please clients. Most were thrilled to have the opportunity to stick their stuff in the notoriously uptight Earther species just so they could brag to their peers.
Dani grumbled as she stared in a mirror, dragging her fingers through her wavy copper hair. “If he wants me bad enough, he can wait a few minutes.” Reggie’s song had left her loose-limbed and lazy.
“And here I thought you wanted to pay your contract off. That group paid extra.”
Dani glared at Husta. “Damn it, multiples? More than two?”
Husta radiated smug amusement. “Better get moving before they come looking for you.” She hop-crawled away on spindly stalks of limbs before Dani could ask who her clients were.
Bitch, Dani thought uncharitably. Even knowing extra money was involved couldn’t salve her irritation. Only three species she knew of tended to have sex in groups: Bi’isils, Solns, and Kalquorians. Bi’isils required intricate rituals with sexual intercourse and considered it within their rights to kill the brothel’s worker and owner if a mistake was made in those rites. The only reason anyone served them was because they might pay off a contract within half a dozen visits. Bi’isils paid obscene amounts to have sex with women not of their own species.
Dani wasn’t trained in their sex ceremonies, so unless Husta wanted her brother dead, she could scratch that option off the list.
And since Dani’s contract stipulated no Kalquorians that left the Solns. She sighed. Sex with the tiny Solns didn’t require she actually do anything, just stand still while they climbed all over her. Easy enough, but the cleanup afterward was rigorous. Soln seed stuck to the skin and hardened quickly. Damn straight they’d better have paid extra.
She consulted the room number and frowned. Husta had put them in a fully equipped playroom, which made no sense. Solns didn’t use restraints, disciplinary tools, or arousing toys. Unnecessarily tying up one of the grand playrooms might put Dani in dutch with another prostitute who could have used it to chop off a sizeable chunk of her contract. Husta wasted no opportunity to make Dani’s life more miserable than it already was.
Putting a lid on her simmering hostility, Dani yelled across the lounge. “Husta, I’ll need a full break after this one.” She added under her breath, “Bitch.”
With one final primp in the mirror, Dani stomped out of the lounge in full pout. At least she could wallow in her pique. The Solns wouldn’t care about her bad temper.
Dani headed back down the hall, absentmindedly sidestepping here and there to avoid the guards’ eager grabs. She wondered if she could get the Solns to relocate to a smaller room, one without all the bells and whistles.
She had to snort at herself. Bells and whistles indeed. The first time she’d seen the fully equipped playroom, she’d thought of a medieval dungeon. The props and furniture had seemed more like torture implements than pleasure devices to an Earther raised in the repressed environment of a religion-based government gone mad.
Fortunately, Dani had gotten away with a lot more decadence than the typical Earther. Privilege and a deep-pocketed father in politics had given her leeway most Earthers hadn’t enjoyed. She’d been no trembling virgin when she’d come to Dantovon. Once she’d gotten over the initial shock of blatant sex, sometimes committed in full view of an audience, Dani had been more curious than appalled by the strange apparatuses the brothel’s customers used on their playthings.
She’d even enjoyed a few of the toys. There was a table one could be strapped down on, a swing like the one she’d entertained Reggie in, manacles in the walls, manacles hanging from chains, a suspension field, straps, shock prods, spanking boards, gags, blindfolds, and stimulant dildos of various sizes and shapes to accommodate the anatomies of various species.
It still made no sense the Solns would choose that room. But who knew why aliens did what they did? Dani couldn’t make sense of her own species; never mind trying to figure the others out.
She reached the playroom door and punched her code in. The door whooshed open obligingly, and she stepped in.
The room’s walls were curtained. The dark blue fabric was easily swept aside to put in use any of the restraints that hung behind the drapes. Spotlights were trained at those areas, as well as over the equipment scattered about the floor: padded cuffs hanging from the ceiling, the table, and the podium that emitted the suspension field. Shadows pooled in the corners, making the lit areas so much more glaring for the surrounding darkness.
As the door closed behind Dani, movement came from the far corner. Instead of a dozen tiny Solns, three huge men stepped from the shadows. Kalquorians.
Dani had only an instant to register the dark-skinned, black haired aliens before turning on her heel and running for the door, a scream poised on her lips. She’d not gotten one step before a thick, muscled arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides and pulling her to a granite hard body, lifting her from her feet. The Kalquorian had her near six feet length dangling several inches above the floor. She kicked wildly.
“Let me go!”
Another man stepped in front of her, moving in a blur to grab hold of her flailing legs. He held her calves easily against one side of his body, rendering her helpless. “We have paid for your time, Earther.” His rolling bass of a voice thrummed through her body. He’d not ordered her to do anything, but the command in his tone stilled her struggles.
Terror made her own voice high and screamy. “Not you. Not Kalquorians. It’s in my contract!”
The third man stepped into view, peering at her over the shoulder of the one who held her legs. His tone was much milder, though still deep. “We were told the extra money would change your mind.”
Dani curled her upper lip. Damn Husta. Owner’s sister or not, she’d pay for this. “Well you were told wrong,” Dani loftily informed them. “So put me down and let me leave.”
“May I ask why you find us so distasteful?” His head cocked as if he was genuinely interested in her opinion.
She swallowed, taking a good look at the man who spoke. These were the first Kalquorians she’d seen up close, and they weren’t at all what she’d expected. She’d thought they’d look like evil incarnate. The Church had described them as devils, and that had always conjured images of dark fiends with horns on their heads and cloven hooves.
Well, they were dark. Dark brown skin like chocolate milk. Blue-black hair. Huge. The one who’d asked the question had at least seven inches on her, possibly more. The guy holding her legs was only a couple inches shorter. The one pinning her against his very wide, very muscular chest was the tallest of all. Dani had never felt dwarfed before, but she sure as hell did now.
Size aside, they didn’t look demonic. Darn if they weren’t handsome, in fact. Their blue-purple eyes were beautiful, once you got past the catlike slit pupils. The one who wasn’t touching Dani had tousled hair to his shoulders, softly rumple
d like he’d forgotten to brush it. His face was lean, his nose slender and pointed. There was a bemused smile on his gentle features, and he looked at Dani as if he studied a particularly fascinating butterfly he’d swooped up in a net. He looked intense and friendly all at once.
Dani refused to acknowledge the fluttery feeling his interest elicited. Making herself attend to his question, she spluttered in outrage. “Why do I find you distasteful? Are you kidding? After what you did to Earth?”
A voice like brushed velvet slid against her ear. “Our ships never would have entered the portal if we’d known it was rigged to explode your major cities.”
Dani looked up and up at the face of the man holding her with arms of steel. His gaze on her was sharp too, but instead of clinical interest, he looked at her as if trying to decide how she would taste. More rugged than his companions, the fierce creature looked like a born hunter. His jaw couldn’t have been squarer, his high cheekbones lending him haughtiness like some kingly savage. His skull, most of it shaved so that a long Mohawk strip of hair hung down his back, was beautifully formed. He was as handsome as a tiger, and every bit as deadly. Icy chills raced down Dani’s spine to be caught in his gaze.
Don’t show this one fear. It will be very bad if you do. Every instinct told her this was a dangerous creature. Forcing her tone to hold steady, Dani snapped, “Rigged? What are you talking about? The way I heard it, Kalquor attacked us, blew everything up, and then began carting off all the women.”
The third man, the one holding her legs, spoke. Dani was grateful to look away from the beast-man holding her to the one with the deep, rumbling voice. “And where did you hear this? From trusted leaders? Reliable sources?”
He was the handsomest of the three, with chiseled features and a sly smile that both charmed and worried her. Except for the cornrows of tight braids that swung over his chest and shoulders, he looked like a sculpted bust of young Julius Caesar Dani had seen when she toured Italy. The confidence in his demeanor was almost smug, and it set her teeth on edge.
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