Enslaved by a Warrior [Sold! 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove)

by Anitra Lynn McLeod

  Rather than anger him, the information made Blessed smile.

  Chapter 3

  “Hey, this isn’t funny anymore. I want to wake the hell up!” Tyler was taken from the stage and washed by unseen hands. They got everywhere. The probing fingers even got deep inside his ass, which felt kind of good, but then seemed terribly inappropriate. What was so weird was that they weren’t penetrating him with any intention. It wasn’t like they were trying to turn him on, off, or anything. They were just disembodied hands bent on doing their duty, which apparently was to make him sparkling clean for whoever had bought him.

  Tyler wasn’t the fastest guy on the block, but there was only one thing sold could mean after that display. Someone had bought him. And after what had been done to him as he’d been bathed in those lights, it was pretty damn obvious they weren’t buying him to get his mother’s famous red velvet cake recipe. That left him with the disturbing question of exactly what he’d been bought for.

  After repeated attempts to wake himself up, he finally realized he wasn’t asleep and this wasn’t a dream. What drove him positively mad was the timeline. He had literally been in his car speeding down the 405 in sunny southern California and then blamo! he was on a stage getting twisted and turned for someone and then probed.

  “Oh, fuck.”

  Aliens. Didn’t aliens have a thing for probing the bottoms of unsuspecting humans? Tyler had never believed in any of that garbage, but that was the only thing that made any kind of sense. Some freaky alien culture yanked him out of his car and then sold him off to…who the hell knew? A montage of strange faces and bizarre bodies—all the pictures of aliens he’d ever seen—went flashing through his mind. Thanks to television shows like Star Trek, Dr. Who, and V, he had all kinds of warped alien fodder to contemplate, most of it unpleasant or downright scary.

  Once the hands were done cleaning him, they then affixed a leash to his collar and pulled him toward what looked like an endless hall. What struck Tyler mute was the fact that the hall was gigantic. He was six three and the ceiling above him and the walls beside him had to be a good thirty by thirty. Swallowing hard, he hoped to God these creatures just liked to build on a grandiose scale. About a million years ago when he was a little kid, he’d gone on a field trip to the state capital. Everything there was built on the scale of giants, so he thought the same thing might be going on here. Although, a slave sale didn’t seem the type of thing to warrant an imposing structure. But then again, he didn’t know how alien minds worked. For all he knew, they could defecate in public and eat in private. They were aliens for Christ’s sake, so they probably did really strange alien stuff.

  And then he realized that just because he’d been stripped, bent, and fondled to ejaculation in front of an audience didn’t mean they weren’t buying him to eat him.

  “Oh, shit.” Every muscle in his body tensed as he kept on following the hand or whatever it was that held the other end of his leash. Tyler tried squinting, blinking, and even looking out the corner of his eye, but he still didn’t see anything but the leash. It was obvious something was holding it because the far end stayed in relatively the same position. Using his keen powers of observation, he noticed the hand of the thing seemed to be rather high. If it was built roughly like Tyler, he was being led by something about ten feet tall. But then again, maybe not. Maybe the invisible thing had hands on the top of its head. Or it didn’t have hands at all. Again, trying to understand the motives or even bodily shapes of aliens was a total waste of his time. Which made him wonder, what was a good use of his time?

  Finding a way to escape. That was what he should be doing. Tyler considered the hallway. If there were doors they were as invisible as the thing that led him. Spending his energy fighting at the moment served no purpose because if he got away, he only had one place to run, and that was straight ahead, which was the direction they wanted him to go. And then he remembered that he was wearing a collar with a lot of blinking lights. What was that show he’d seen with the collars that blew the guy’s head off when he went out of bounds? Dang. Tyler couldn’t remember, but the special effects had been kind of crappy so it was probably an old movie. Still, he would be wise to be cautious. If his collar blew, he wouldn’t be able to appreciate the visual of his head popping off his body. All things considered, Tyler wanted to keep his head right where it was. If he was going to be eaten by some kind of horrible beast, he’d wait until he was in the creature’s kitchen to fight his way to freedom.

  For some reason he thought of all the lobsters he’d eaten over the years. He’d tossed them into pots of boiling water without a second thought. Perhaps this was karmic payback for that. Some ferocious beast would toss him in a pot and then eat him covered in butter, or whatever the alien’s equivalent of dipping sauce was. Although at that point it wouldn’t really matter because he’d be dead. It would be worse to be eaten alive. The thought of traveling down the gullet of some massive beast made his heart beat so fast he was afraid he would have a heart attack and die right here.

  “Where are you taking me?” It was probably a waste of time to talk to the invisible thing, but Tyler thought it was worth a shot.

  “To your new master.”

  “Master?”

  “Owner.” The voice was as disembodied as the hands. It seemed to kind of come from in front of him, but then again, Tyler was so amped up the voice could be coming from inside his head and he wouldn’t realize it.

  “What does this owner want me for?”

  “Who can say?”

  “You?”

  “Not I.”

  Tyler struggled to find more probing questions. “What do they usually do with my kind?”

  “You are one of the first.”

  “First as in what?” It could be height, color of his skin, his hair, his eyes—who the hell knew?

  “First from the planet Earth.”

  “What about from the other places? What happens to those…guys?” He wasn’t sure what to call people from other planets.

  “The six-armed Xearzans make good cleaning slaves. The tall, thin Delutians are the best tailors. The four-mouthed Yartz are very well suited to providing multiple creatures with pleasure.”

  “So they don’t eat any of them?”

  “Eat? As in consume for sustenance?” The voice laughed and his mirth sounded like the tinkling of a little bell. “No. There is another auction block for food items.”

  Relief eased tension out of Tyler’s shoulders. “Wait. How can I understand you and you me?” It was unlikely aliens would speak English.

  “You have been implanted with a device that translates what you hear and what you say. It is quite common in the universe.”

  “Not on Earth.”

  “I am aware of that. Fitting it to your small brain was a challenge.”

  It took a moment for the insult to sink in. “Are you calling me stupid?”

  “Not with that word.”

  Tyler kept his mouth shut for a long time until he realized the only one he was hurting with his sulking was himself. This was a golden opportunity for him to ask questions, and here he was taking a slight from being called dumb. Maybe he was stupider than he thought.

  “Do you know who bought me?”

  “I do not.”

  “So I’ll probably end up cleaning things?” If they thought he was stupid, then menial tasks seemed likely.

  “I know not what the plans for you are.”

  “How much did this person pay for me?”

  “More than I have ever seen paid for a slave who can’t stop talking.”

  “Fuck you!” Tyler grabbed his leash with one hand to stabilize it and then yanked hard with his other hand, pulling on the creature who held the other end.

  There was a startled cry, and then the other end of his leash fell to the floor. His moment of triumph was short lived.

  “You impetuous fiend!”

  Tyler braced himself for a walloping dose of punishment, but what he
got instead was a jolt of pleasure so intense he almost climaxed. He was baffled, because in all the shows, books, and graphic novels he’d ever read, he’d never heard of any civilization using pleasure as a weapon.

  As soon as the ecstasy wore off, he asked, “What the hell was that?”

  “A blast right into the pleasure center of your brain.”

  “It was incredible.”

  “And it’s highly addictive.”

  Tyler considered that for a long time. Why would they punish him with something that felt good and had no horrible side effects? Once the pleasure receded, he felt fine. Well, except he wanted another jolt. And that was when he understood. Hit him hard enough and often enough in his pleasure center, and he’d become their more than willing slave just to get another hit.

  “Only sentient species are afraid of what we use. I guess you’re not so simpleminded after all.”

  “I guess not.” Tyler continued following his invisible pal down the hall. He had no intention of causing him any more problems. It wouldn’t take that many more pleasure blasts to turn him into a quivering bowl of pudding that would fall to his knees and gladly perform any perversity they wished. His only thought now was what his master would look like and just exactly what this mysterious alien wanted him for.

  Chapter 4

  Blessed waited in the claiming area. Before he took possession of his new slave, he would have an opportunity to thoroughly inspect him to ensure no trades had taken place. Since he had dealt with this auctioneer before, and the man was in awe of Blessed, he doubted very much there would be any kind of trickery.

  “What is taking so long?” Usually by the time he took the elevator down from the bidding area his prize was ready to go.

  “He is a little…resistant.”

  It was clear from the hesitation the auctioneer had considered lying but then thought better of it.

  “Good.”

  The auctioneer’s three eyes widened in his round little face.

  “I prefer a thrall who has some fight left in him.”

  “He had to be given a jolt of joy to stop him from harming his escort.”

  “You dare to give pleasure to my slave?” Blessed didn’t bellow, as only those who feared others not listening spoke loudly. When Blessed talked, all within range listened, even if they had to strain to do so. “Do not dare to do so again.”

  “No, your graciousness. No one will do anything to him again.” The auctioneer spoke in hushed terms to whomever was bringing Blessed’s purchase forth. “It seems the slave was quite afraid of the jolt of joy.”

  “As well he should be.” But Blessed preferred to deliver his own version. With his hands, his mouth, his cock, and his strosan, he could give a slave a dose of pleasure that rivaled the jolt of joy. And then Blessed considered why the Earthling was afraid. Obviously, he feared addiction. This was powerful to know. Knowledge of a species’ fears, longings, and such gave him tremendous power. “You will bring him here and have him wait on me.”

  “Your graciousness, if you would permit, we have rooms available so that one such as yourself can be assured the slave is up to par?” The auctioneer’s voice rose at the end as if he were asking a question. Blessed got the distinct impression that he could have this Tyler, this Earthling, for the night, and then declare him unfit. He wouldn’t get back all his money, but he would get back most and the auctioneer could simply sell him again.

  Suspicious, Blessed reached across the counter and placed his hand over the auctioneer’s chest. “You have not sold him in this way before, have you?”

  “Oh, no! Absolutely not, your graciousness. He is untouched by any but those on his own planet. Oh! But for the display on stage and the cleaning afterward.”

  “You swear this on your life?”

  “I do.”

  Blessed withdrew his hand. The auctioneer sighed and settled his clothing.

  “I will give you the best room we have, your graciousness.” He handed over a key. “If you require anything—”

  “Have a mix of food for him and for me. Be careful that you pick things that will please him. I will also require a full array of—never mind. I will have my people bring me what I need. You give me a room, put this Tyler Stewart in it, and I shall deal with the rest.”

  The auctioneer nodded.

  “And if he is not as you say, I shall return for your heart.”

  “Yes, your graciousness.”

  Blessed turned and strode off to the nearest restaurant. He would make his slave wait for him so that he could learn more about his kind. Knowledge was power, and Blessed would need an edge if he were to fully control his latest playmate. He instructed his devotee to make arrangements to have all he would need delivered to the room provided.

  Once inside the exclusive club, he only had to look at the maître d’ to obtain a seat. There was no place on the planet so exclusive that it prohibited a fully named warrior of the neutral class. Blessed didn’t have to say his name or even display insignia of his rank. All who looked upon his face knew what he was. A black mark of power rode on his right cheek. The gentle curve of a planetary horizon with five dots below told all who looked at him that Blessed had conquered five worlds. He was retired now, hence his insufferable boredom, but he was working on a way to alleviate the worst symptom of civilized living.

  Blessed spent a leisurely time sipping a drink and eating a small meal. He didn’t want to be too full or too inebriated to play with his latest toy. But he did want to make him wait and make him wonder. He snapped his fingers hard below the table, reprimanding himself. If he had been thinking, he would have had his devotee order cameras placed in the room before Tyler arrived. Ah, well. Such was the folly of afterthought. Had he placed watching devices, Blessed could have observed his slave considering the room and pondering his fate. He could have learned much. With a sigh, he rose, paid for his modest repast with a fingertouch to the billpad in the table, then left. In his wake, he noticed there were hushed murmurs, fanned faces, and a general sense of relief. Yet there was also a cloud of longing.

  Warriors spiked hormones in men, women, and neutrals.

  Blessed grinned. He enjoyed his status as both a figure of regard and of lust. Not that he had ever waylaid an unsuspecting citizen and expected them to bow before him, but the notion that he could do so, and possibly get away with such a bold scheme, pleased him greatly.

  Rumors followed him wherever he went, and often in places he didn’t. Blessed couldn’t recall how many times some enterprising huckster insisted Blessed had been to his establishment and raved about what had happened to him there. All were false. Blessed went about the entire planet of Krase since he had lodgings on every continent, but he did not favor one place over another. He found value in all he indulged. From high to low and all points between, there was nothing richer than the experience. The cost wasn’t the criteria. In the dregs of the universe, Blessed had found peace and riches beyond what most could comprehend.

  And tonight, he would find out just what Earth had to offer him.

  Chapter 5

  Anticipation made Tyler so wired he was unable to sit still. The invisible man had taken him from the hall to an elevator. It, like the hallway, was built on a huge scale. Again, he swallowed. He had asked how big this thing was that bought him, but the invisible host didn’t know since he had no idea who had actually won the bid.

  “You will find out soon enough.”

  After that terrifying comment, the invisible hand had taken him from the elevator to a room and left him there with his leash dangling from his neck down to the floor.

  The first thing Tyler had done was remove the leash from his collar. He’d done so roughly, and right after it had come free he’d had an exquisite panic attack. For all he knew, the device was now counting down to head-explosion time. He ran around the room looking for the bathroom so he could see what was happening to the lights on his collar, but what he found within that room had terrified him worse t
han the prospect of getting his head blown off. There wasn’t a mirror, and he didn’t recognize any of the fixtures. Whatever sat on their version of a toilet wasn’t even remotely human. He’d backed out of the room and slammed the door. Leaning against it, he waited for the explosion, but it didn’t come. His shoulders slumped with relief, and then he felt foolish for overreacting.

  “Oh, fuck it. I’m entitled. How many humans can say they survived an alien slave auction?”

  Once he calmed himself, he examined every nook and cranny of the room. The first thing he noticed was that the furniture was big. Not thirty-foot-tall big, but still much grander in scale than human furniture. And then his gaze riveted on the bed. He gulped. At least he thought it was a bed. It was gigantic and square and had what looked like pillows. Again, he had no idea what he was dealing with, so for all he knew he was looking at the toilet and that thing in the closet was where the creature cleaned his teeth.

  Everything was color coordinated, but he couldn’t really say what the exact shade was. It seemed to be constantly shifting and made him nauseous. There were chair-like things around what kind of looked like a table. Sort of. Basically, everything was boxlike. With that realization, the room took on more shape to him. All the furniture was built in boxes. Not rectangles, circles, or any shape but a perfectly square box. It was a carpenter’s dream. His gaze easily traced out the pattern, and his mind calmed. Yes, the boxes were big, but they weren’t monstrously so.

  “Maybe this wouldn’t be so difficult to get used to.”

  Tyler went over to what he thought was the bed and sat on the edge. It was surprisingly hard. He frowned. Apparently this advanced culture had not heard of pillow-top mattresses. With a sigh, he realized there was already a long list of things he was going to miss from planet Earth. His family, of course. First and foremost he would miss them. But he’d also miss his coworkers, his friends, and his gym buddies. In addition to people, he was going to miss coffee, his comfy mattress, and those chili-cheese dogs that cute and chubby guy made just for him. He would pile it high with onions that were so pungent they burned Tyler’s eyes. He’d once asked the man if he hated men with onion breath, but the vendor—damn that Tyler couldn’t remember his name—had said he loved onions. And Tyler had grinned and eaten a big mouthful of dog, bun, chili, and onions. Regret washed through him because Tyler hadn’t ever made his move. He wasn’t sure what he’d been waiting for, and now it was too late.