Candidate (Selected Book 4)

by Robin Roseau

  Around the perimeter of the battleground were aliens. The camera panned around them, one after another. Some were small. Others were clearly deeply powerful. They were all male, although there was a voiceover indicating from time to time there were female contestants as well.

  In the stands were more aliens and a few humans.

  And then there was a signal, and everyone moved into motion.

  Some of the women stayed in the middle, most of them seemingly unable to act. The rest sprang into motion. They ran for the exits, some in blind panic, some appearing far more organized.

  And the aliens also began to run. There were a lot of aliens. Some moved towards the women. Others moved to cut off the exits.

  None of the women made it from the arena. Most of them were easily caught and shoved into waiting cages. There was one group of four women who put up a good defense, standing back to back and surrounded by four of the aliens with others waiting at a distance, watching. One of the women thrust with a sword, scoring a red line across the arm of the alien facing her, but then he clasped a massive hand around her smaller one, pulling her away from her friends. He calmly took the sword from her, threw her over his shoulder, and carried her to one of the cages as she kicked and screamed. He set her down, pushed her in, and slammed the door.

  The fate of the other three women was similar. Another was taken, and then the last two simultaneously.

  But that wasn't the end. The video continued, and I watched the aliens fight each other.

  In the beginning there had been sixteen women in the middle. Then there were sixteen women in cages. At the end, there were many aliens who required help leaving the arena. There were sixteen, most of them hurt, who opened the cage doors, pulled out the women, and carried them from the arena.

  * * * *

  The visor explained why. I thought it was bullshit, complete bullshit. But then the visor showed me the other competitions, one woman and one alien. Sometimes the alien won. Sometimes the woman won. But as the competitions went on, the women became decreasingly antagonistic towards their aliens.

  I saw hugs.

  I saw cuddles.

  I saw kisses.

  I saw fierce aliens treating the women gently, even kindly.

  Then Administrator Brighteyes appeared in her program. "Occasionally a human escapes the arena, but it is extremely rare. Somewhat more often, but not often, a human wins the final challenge, and she is free to go home. This is most likely when the woman is an exceptionally fine athlete competing against one of the less athletic of the extraterrestrial species."

  Then she explained how the women go home with their challengers, who is given a period of time to woo them.

  Then the video showed more women, the setting very alien, and I thought perhaps it was upon their space station. They were with their aliens, and they looked happy, like any newlywed human couple.

  The visor dimmed then brightened. It was Administrator Brighteyes again. "We cannot go home," she explained. "The reasons are complicated. Your leaders know we do this. They agreed when they invited us to stay. They changed your laws sufficiently to allow us to take you without interference. They keep our secrets." She spoke for several more minutes, then the visor dimmed. When next it brightened, I was looking at an empty room.

  * * * *

  She didn't make me wait long. The visor provided a small clock in the upper right corner of my vision, and it was only a few minutes. Then Administrator Brighteyes stepped into the room, smiled briefly, then sat down across from me again. I stared at her.

  "Now what?" I asked her quietly.

  "Now we see if you keep your promises. Are you going to say something rude to me?"

  "How many of the women who go through that are gay?"

  "The usual percentage," she said.

  "How many of them attempt to kill their alien?"

  "About, oh, a third of the women fight with deadly intent that first day. A very small percentage attempt murder during the subsequent challenges."

  "It's not murder."

  "None have made the attempt once reaching their new homes, although a few have attempted suicide."

  "Attempted?"

  "Attempted without success, so far, anyway. Every month or two, one or two attempt it in the arena. A similar number do so in the cells. There have been a few close calls, but no fatalities."

  "What you do to them is barbaric."

  She didn't respond.

  "Well, what now?" I asked after a minute.

  "Well," she said. "The visor didn't explain something to you. You have a choice."

  "A choice?"

  "Several choices, actually. Your first choice, and this is what will happen if we do not come to another agreement. Tomorrow morning you will step onto the arena sands, and it will be much as you saw on the visor, but it will be you and four alien males. There will be two exits, not four, and the males will be from the more athletic species. It is possible you could win your freedom, but unlikely. The most likely scenario is you will land in a cage, and when you are carried from the field, your subsequent challenges will be against the eventual victor."

  "A male."

  "Yes. A male."

  "Not interested."

  "Your next choice is to wait until the next group of women comes through, and you will enter the arena as one of them. There is a possibility one or two of the challengers will be female. It is possible she will be the one who eventually carries you from the arena. It is unlikely. However, you will also be allowed to surrender to any of the combatants, and then she is definitely the one to carry you back to your cell to await the remaining challenges."

  "I see. A chance one will be female."

  "Of the species in or near human space, there are several that engage in female-female pairings. Catseye are one. We are of a single gender. There are no male Catseye."

  "Oh," I said.

  "I will come back to that. There are two such species that prefer a mating fight. It does not need to be exactly what we do here, but those are details. However, one of those species has no unattached females at this time, so you could possibly encounter the other. Amongst the other species, there are several that experience female homosexuality in a fashion similar to humanity. So there is a possibility you could face one of them."

  "How big a chance?"

  "Randomly it is low. If you keep your promises, I can dramatically increase your chances, but there is no promise the females who might be here at that time would find you intriguing. They may choose to attempt to leave with another."

  "What are my chances?"

  "At best? Fair."

  I looked away, saying nothing. I wanted to scream, but I was sure screaming wouldn't help me and could likely hurt me.

  "Your next choice is to accept willingly a mate from those species that do not compete in this fashion. I would let people know you were available and then would select someone for you."

  "Female?"

  "Yes."

  "Someone I don't even know."

  "Or know only briefly. It is not unlike arranged marriages in some human cultures."

  I turned to face her. "And if I reject all your proposals?"

  "Then tomorrow you will find yourself in the arena facing four males."

  "But I'm allowed to fight."

  "You will lose."

  "Do you really think I'm going to stop fighting? Do you really think just because you have rules for my behavior that I'll follow them? Are you sure I won't eventually find a way to put a knife into his heart?"

  "You'd have to find it."

  I stared at her and again pushed back my tears. "Don't I have any way out of this?"

  "You could win the challenges. It is unlikely. If you do not, then you go home with your challenger, and he -- or she -- has a period of time to woo you. Most succeed. Of course, we cheat."

  "What do you mean, you cheat?"

  She smiled. "Would you like a demonstration?"

  "I don't believe
I would."

  "I won't hurt you, Ms. Hayes. In fact, you would rather enjoy the demonstration." She smiled and stood. "If I release you from the chair, will you cooperate?"

  "For now."

  She cocked her head and the table and chair released me. But a moment later the visor went dark, and I couldn't see.

  "Hey!"

  "Yes, I know. You can't see." Then she took my arm. "Come with me."

  I let her lead me from the room.

  * * * *

  When next I could see, we were in what looked like a very nice apartment living room. We weren't alone.

  "Andromeda Hayes," said Administrator Brighteyes. "This is Dark Skies. She is of a species humans call Octals."

  The alien was petite, smaller than I was, and blue. She stepped forward, offering her hand. I lifted both of mine, still shackled, and we shook, exchanging greetings. The Catseye explained a number of things about the Octals, including the nature of their families."

  "So you have six wives and a husband?" I finally asked.

  "No. I am currently single," she replied. "I have so far avoided a battle of wills."

  "A battle of wills?" I asked.

  "In an Octal household," said the Catseye, "There is one queen, and everyone obeys her. The queen is selected through a battle of wills. I brought you here to experience what it is like."

  "You're giving me to her?"

  "Only briefly," said the Catseye.

  "I do not wish my first mate to be human," explained the Octal. "If I accepted a human mate, I would almost certainly lose the next battle of wills."

  "Administrator Brighteyes-" I began.

  "You require a demonstration. Dark Skies is the weakest adult Octal I know. Nearly all are older and far more powerful than she is. You will see what she is able to do, and then you will understand what I mean when I say we cheat."

  "I don't know about this."

  "If you are able to win this battle of wills," continued the Catseye, "I will send you home. If not, then you will negotiate in good faith with me."

  I wasn't the most stubborn woman I knew, but I was pretty darned stubborn. "How do we know who has won?"

  "You'll know. But let us suggest something the loser will perform for the winner."

  Then the Octal spoke in one of their languages, and I didn't understand a word. The Catseye listened but answered in English, "It is her choice."

  "What is?"

  "Dark Skies wishes to keep you for twenty-four hours, after which time she will release you back to me. Do you wish to spend the next twenty-four hours with her?"

  "I don't even know her," I replied.

  "I promise you would enjoy it," said the Catseye. "But I also believe you would be very upset later. So, you have a choice. A brief battle of wills, and the loser will, hmm. Kiss the winner's feet."

  "Excuse me?"

  "If she is able to make you willingly kiss her feet, she wins," said the Catseye. "If you are able to resist, or if she kisses yours, then you go free. I will return in one hour. Or you may agree I will not return for twenty-four hours, and whatever happens here, happens here."

  "So we're going to fight?"

  "We will hug," said the Octal. "And breathe."

  "Hug." I rattled my arms.

  "I will hug you. You will allow me to do so. I will not hurt you."

  "Fine," I said. "We'll hug. Come back in an hour, Administrator."

  The Catseye spoke briefly in the other language and then turned and left, a door opening and closing on its own.

  The Octal and I turned to each other. "What do you prefer to be called?"

  "Andromeda," I said. I didn't want anyone here calling me Andie.

  "I prefer my full name, Dark Skies," she said. Her accent was thick, but I readily understood her. But she stepped closer. "I am young, twenty-two Earth years old. Will you be offended if I touch you?"

  "Are you going to maul me?"

  "I do not understand."

  "Will you stop if I ask you to stop?"

  "Yes," she said.

  "Then you may touch."

  She moved closer and set a hand on my arm. She had four spindly fingers instead of five, and they bent quite differently, but she wrapped the fingers gently around my arm and stroked lightly. She moved a little closer, looking up into my eyes.

  "Do you work here?" I asked her.

  "Yes. I am one of the technicians. It is a good job. I am learning. Would you like to sit?" She gestured to a sofa. I didn't answer, so she tugged on my arm, and I let her pull me forward. We sat together, and she moved closer, a hand on the center of my chest.

  "I am being gentle," she said. "I do not want to hurt you."

  "I appreciate that," I replied. Then I inhaled deeply. "Something smells good."

  "I know," she said. She reached a hand around the back of my head, and when she pulled me closer to her, I let her. She pulled my face into the cleft of her neck and shoulder, and I found the source of the wonderful smell.

  "It's you," I whispered.

  "I have never done this before," she said.

  "Done what?"

  "A battle of wills. This is my first. Thank you. Remember, if you don't kiss my feet, then Jasmine Brighteyes will let you go home."

  "I remember," I whispered. I squirmed. I wanted to hold her, but the shackles kept me from reaching for her. But then I manage to reach with both hands and clasp her cheeks, one hand to either side. Her blue skin was smooth and soft and lovely. She was lovely. And she smelled so good. I breathed deeply.

  "Do you want me to stop touching you?"

  "No!" I said firmly. "When does our, um..."

  "It already began," she said. "You're losing."

  "No," I whispered. But then my tongue reached out, and I licked the side of her neck. She tasted even better than she smelled.

  "Do that again," she commanded, and I did, then a third time. I began panting.

  "Humans like to kiss," she whispered. "Octals don't kiss, but we do something similar. Do you want me to show you?"

  "Yes," I whispered.

  At that she pressed my hands back down then slid a leg across mine, perching over me. She bent me backwards until I was firmly against the sofa, my head bent at an angle. I continued to pant as I stared up into her eyes.

  "This is an exchange of fluids," she said. "I will only give you a taste. I am giving you a chance to win your battle with me."

  I didn't have words.

  But she put a hand behind my head and lowered her mouth to mine. Then she slipped her tongue into me while pulling my head forward. Her tongue slipped deep inside me, further than a human tongue would have, and then I felt fresh wetness across my own tongue. She brushed her tongue across mine, and after a moment, I felt something new. I was filled with deep, deep pleasure, and I moaned.

  Dark Skies withdrew from me, although she licked my lips, and when I licked them clean, I was filled with more of the pleasure.

  "Do you want me to stop what I'm doing to you, Andromeda?" she asked.

  "No. God, no. Oh god, but what are you doing to me?"

  "This is our battle of wills." She looked into one eye, then the other. "I think you'd do anything I asked, wouldn't you?"

  "Yes," I whispered. "Please kiss me again."

  "Maybe soon," she said. "If you willingly kiss my feet, you don't get to go home. If I tell you to kiss my feet, what will you do?"

  My head cleared marginally. Dark Skies watched me. I didn't answer her, so she leaned forward and brushed my lips with her tongue again. I reflexively licked them and moaned again as the pleasure built.

  "Please, Dark Skies," I said.

  "Please, what, Andromeda?"

  "I-" I didn't know.

  "Do you want me to touch you?"

  "Yes!"

  She set her hands moving, leaning closer, and my panting increased.

  "I want you to think about something," she said. "If you can still think. I want you to think about belonging to me."

&
nbsp; I moaned. "Yes," I whispered. "Yes."

  "Kissing me."

  "Yes."

  "Making love to me."

  "Yes, Dark Skies. Please, yes."

  "Already this feels so good, doesn't it, Andromeda?"

  "Yes," I whispered, dragging it out.

  "We have only been here for a while, not even ten minutes. Imagine a life with me. I would be your queen, and you would obey me completely, wouldn't you?"

  "Yes," I agreed.

  "I will give you a choice, Andromeda. Beg to kiss my feet. Beg to kiss them, and I will make you feel very, very good. Or ask me to stop, and I will walk away."

  "No!" I said. "Don't go."

  "Then beg," she said. Then she licked my lips again, and I was filled with more pleasure and such need.

  "Please, Dark Skies," I said. "Please let me kiss you feet. Please don't stop. Please... Please..."

  As begging goes, it probably wasn't very good, but I didn't have enough brain power left for eloquence.

  She moved from me, standing, and I felt such loss.

  "Kiss my feet, Andromeda," she said. "Kiss them very thoroughly, and I will give you pleasure."

  She didn't need to order twice. I slid from the sofa and lowered myself to her feet. I kissed them, and I kissed them, and when she ordered me to lick, I licked. She ordered me to open my mouth, and then she slid two fingers into me, and I sucked on them greedily. Then I kissed her feet some more before she pulled me to my feet.

  Then we were kissing again, her tongue in my mouth, and I knew nothing else but pleasure for along time after that.

  Negotiation

  When next I could think, I was back in my cell, lying on my side. The shackles were gone, but I still wore the visor. I didn't remember getting there, but I felt deep loss. Dark Skies was not there.

  I didn't remember getting there. I didn't remember anything but pleasure after I kissed her feet.

  I closed my eyes and slept.

  * * * *

  I woke to a voice saying, "Breakfast will arrive in ten minutes, Mating Candidate Hayes."

  I opened my eyes slowly. I reached up to rub the sleep from them, surprising myself when I found the visor in place. I tried to remove it, but I couldn't.

  I lay there for a while, trying to put the pieces together.