Aurelian Prisoner

by Corin Cain

  I doubt there’s even a place that could fix the burned-out circuits back on the planet we’ve just left – and it’s not like those three Aurelians could take me back there anyway. Spur might not have pursued us off-world – but he’ll still be out for their blood if they return.

  So, that means the first stage of my plan has been completed.

  I look around the dimly lit cell. I might have stranded the Reaver in space – but I’m still stranded in here. Unlike the Aurelians, though, I have a few more tricks up my sleeve.

  There's a sudden hiss as the doors of the punishment brig open.

  Suddenly, I find myself staring up at a very pissed off Aurelian. Daccia, the leader of the triad, is practically snarling at me.

  It’s terrifying – but also elating.

  Their species doesn’t like to show emotion – but no matter how much this Aurelian tries to control it, I can see in Daccia’s face that he's mad – really mad.

  His jaw is set, his eyes are narrow, and his huge hands are balled into fists.

  It’s a small victory to have got him so enraged.

  I smile sweetly, feigning ignorance about what might have happened to disrupt our Orb-Shift. Instead, I ask:

  "What can I do for you?"

  Daccia’s lips pull back in a snarl:

  “I am Daccia – Aurelian Law Enforcement, third rank. This is not some backwater militant ship. We know what you did – and you’re toying with forces far greater than you can imagine.”

  Daccia points angrily at my forearm.

  “Extend your arm. Now!”

  I swallow hard, remaining motionless. I don’t want to even think about what might happen when this towering Aurelian finds the shift-blocker implant in my arm.

  He must have noticed something. Dammit! I wasn't sneaky enough!

  Of course, I also knew there’d be a video feed of the punishment block. Prisoners who try to escape don’t get basic rights like privacy.

  I should have thought about that. If I’d found the cameras, I could have used my body to shield my arm when I pressed the device beneath my skin. I should have been more careful.

  Instead, I now have a seven-feet-tall warrior fuming at me angrily; barely holding back his rage.

  How can I stall him?

  Daccia’s hand suddenly snapping forward answers my question.

  He grabs my left arm – hard. I gasp as he stretches my arm out, running one of his huge fingers carefully over the skin. His touch sends shivers down my body – and I’m ashamed to admit that it’s not from fear.

  I wonder if he feels it too? That electricity?

  I don’t get an answer to that question – because what Daccia does feel instantly becomes obvious. His index finger brushes over the raised bump in my skin where the shift-blocking device is concealed. The tiny button I used to activate it is almost too small to see, but you can feel it beneath the skin.

  Daccia looks up – staring deeply into me with those implacable, slate-grey eyes of his. They’re like the eyes of a statue - and they give nothing away.

  I swallow uncomfortably. It feels like Daccia’s reading my mind – like he’ll be able to sniff out a lie even before I utter it.

  “Is this your only modification?”

  I nod, hoping I can make the lie believable. “Yes. My only one.”

  Daccia stares me down. The seconds tick by, but he still doesn’t let go of my arm. Finally, just when I don’t think I can take the tension any longer, he drops my arm, letting it fall limply to my side.

  “We’ll see about that. Follow me. Now.”

  His voice is a stern command – and for a second, I’m powerless to resist it.

  As Daccia turns, my legs attempt to move without thought – instinctively obeying him. Instead, though, I force myself to stay still.

  I can't let this Aurelien march me to the medical bay. If he conducts an examination of me, he'll find the one last modification I have left – a device concealed in my right arm that allows me to give a powerful electric shock to anyone touching me.

  It’s my weapon of last resort – and the battery, which recharges from my own body heat, has the power to work the device once per day.

  Gods – I wish I’d used it on that fucking Toad, Obbit, when he’d first grabbed me, back at Spur’s joint. Then I wouldn’t even be in this mess.

  But I am in this mess – and I have a feeling that concealed shock-weapon might save my life soon enough. For that reason, I can’t let Daccia discover it – or remove it.

  Without that shock device, I'd feel completely naked and helpless – not to mention, I’d earn myself even more punishment for concealing a potentially deadly weapon on an Aurelian spaceship, and for lying to Daccia about it just moments earlier.

  So, I stand firm and shake my head.

  "No! You can't make me.” That’s true enough. Aurelian laws are cruel and cold – but fair. No prisoner may undergo a medical examination without consent. “It's not allowed!"

  Daccia turns back to face me, and he seems unsurprised by my answer. He reaches forward and wraps his hand around my arm before I can pull away again. The moment his steel grip tightens, I gasp in discomfort.

  Fuck! I can't move an inch, he's that fucking strong.

  Daccia hold me firmly, and doesn't even flinch as I try to pull away. I assume he knows my attempts to yank my arm free are as futile as I do.

  "You used a device that jammed our interstellar travel,” the Aurelian eventually growls. “By Article Five-B of the Aurelian Criminal Code, I am authorized to conduct a full search if there is reasonable suspicion that you have tech concealed on or in your body.” The Aurelian’s eyes narrow. “You can come with me, Allie – or I can make you come with me."

  A full search – for tech concealed on or in my body?

  I know what that means. While my two pieces of tech are inside my body – hidden in those pockets beneath my skin – that’s not what such a search would entail. He means inside other parts of me…

  …private parts.

  Shame suddenly fills me – and I almost laugh at the irony of it.

  I’ve been making my living exposing myself on stage for years – and yet I still fear the humiliation of a medical exam by one of these Aurelian warriors.

  I shake my head, suddenly mute – unable to protest.

  Daccia nods. He doesn’t respond to my refusal with words. Instead, he just pulls me behind him – as though I’m weightless. I stumble forward, yanked by the iron grip on my arm, suddenly forced to keep up with him as he strides down the hallway on his long legs.

  It’s difficult to keep up – but the alternative would be getting dragged behind him across the floor.

  Daccia manhandles me all the way down the hallway, until he finally slams his palm harshly down against a button to open a new doorway.

  The door hisses open. Daccia drags me through it – into the ship’s medical bay. Like every other section on this Reaver, it's a small room – by Aurelian standards. Then again, everything on board is built for these seven-feet-tall, monstrous aliens. For a human like me, this room is enormous.

  It’s spartan, though – with no warmth or decoration. Instead, there's just a reclined seat in the center of the room, lit by bright light that casts no shadows. Anyone on that chair will have nowhere to hide…

  …and I’m going to be strapped to it.

  Not just strapped, but examined by this beast.

  “Strip,” Daccia orders.

  The word hits me like a slap.

  Daccia’s voice is a dark command. I shudder as the door hisses shut behind us, trapping me in this medical bay with the dominant alien. I swallow, but my mouth is dry. My heart pounds like a drum.

  I’ve been naked a thousand times in front of men for work – but I’ve never felt like this before.

  Even while I’m still clothed, I'm feeling so exposed – so vulnerable. I’d forgotten what it is like to be in private with one of these huge aliens…

&nbs
p; No, wait. That's a lie.

  I could never forget how it felt to be ravaged by three of the massive Aurelian warriors. The way they fuck is so primal and dominant, like each coupling is a battle to force their woman into submission.

  Daccia is breathing raggedly as he stares down at. I suddenly realize that his stern behavior is also just an act – and that he's trying desperately to fight back every urge in his body to just take me – take me hard, claim me, and make me his bitch.

  Aurelians can barely control their mating urges – and that works in my favor. It’s not ideal – certainly not my first choice of escape plan – but if I want to get out of this situation with my freedom, I'm going to have to make him snap.

  "Don't make me tear your clothing off of you," Daccia warns – and for a second, I spot his slate-grey eyes widen fractionally. I don’t think even he realized how suggestive that sounded.

  If he tears my clothing off, I’ll have lost any opportunity I have to turn this to my advantage – so, reluctantly, I accept my fate and begin pull to my clothes off; one item at a time.

  Daccia's eyes burn into me as I pull my bra off. My nipples are treacherously hard. Being in the presence of one of this huge, God-like alien warriors makes my body involuntarily react. I should be thinking about escape – but suddenly being forced to strip naked in front of this towering, primal alien triggers something deep inside of me.

  My hands are trembling as I pull my panties off – and then I'm finally naked – completely and utterly – in front of him.

  Daccia is still wearing his suit. The power imbalance is obvious. There he stands, towering over me in his elegant clothes. Then there’s me – stark naked, my nipples hardened into sensitive buds, and the flush of my skin exposing my shameful lust.

  As he towers over me, Daccia breathes in deeply. He’s not out of breath – he's tasting me. He’s drinking in the scent of my obvious arousal.

  My cheeks redden. It's so fucking humiliating. I try desperately to force down the dirty thoughts – the carnal memories – but I can’t help it. Like it or not, I'm desperately attracted to this powerful, alien warrior – and there's nothing I can do to stop my body betraying that desire.

  "Get on the chair," Daccia rasps.

  Again, he tries to hide it – but the commander’s voice is filled with hunger and strained with need. My eyes travel downward, and I can immediately see the outline of his steel-hard cock tenting the firm material of his pants.

  Gods – it's fucking huge. I already know from deliciously painful experience how big an Aurelian dick is, and it looks like Daccia’s packing a hammer that’s massive even by the standards of his hugely endowed race. From the outline alone, I know that his straining cock could turn me into a mewling puddle of submission.

  I gulp as I follow his order and reluctantly mount the chair.

  The fabric is cold against my naked flesh. Goosebumps ripple across my body. Daccia stands far back, keeping his distance between us…

  …and that’s when I realize my mistake.

  I should have made him rip the clothes off my body. I’d thought I was retaining control – but it could have been all that was needed to make Daccia lose his. Surely he wouldn’t have been able to hold back his lust for me if I’d made him rip the cloth from me. Not when I was so close...

  Fuck! But I’m not finished yet.

  I just still have to get him to snap – and quickly. I need to make Daccia lose his iron self-control before he examines me, and finds my last weapon. The shock-device embedded in my right arm allows me to transmit a single electric shock strong enough to knock out an Aurelian or Toad – or kill a human outright.

  It’s my last resort! My final hope. I have to keep it hidden.

  To that end, I look up – into Daccia’s slate-grey eyes. I can’t read a single flicker of emotion from them – Aurelians are liked damned statues – but the huge erection tenting out Daccia’s pants tells me all I need to know.

  I lick my lips – settling back into the examination chair and spreading my legs.

  I give Daccia a shameless view of my pussy – and from the heat between my legs, I know it must be glistening with my arousal.

  Daccia growls – his eyes widening fractionally.

  "AI - secure her!"

  Daccia’s voice sounds strained – and I realize how close to breaking point he is. However, it might be too late. Suddenly, metal tendrils whip out from the edges of the chair. The ship’s AI controls them, and the steel tentacles curl around my wrists and ankles to restrain me.

  I gasp as I'm suddenly held down – pinned to the chair, and my legs forced shut. Now I can’t even try to tease this giant man with my body – he’s taken away my last hope of making his resolve crack.

  But perhaps not a moment too soon. As Daccia stands there, I see him panting in need. I watch his hands clench into fists. I know he’s trying desperately to stop himself from striding forward and spreading me open. He’s barely able to stop himself wrenching open his pants and pulling out that impossibly huge cock – so he can fuck me, hard and fast.

  His alien desires are building and building. The stern alien warrior was right on the brink of losing control and succumbing to his species’ infamous mating frenzy.

  If that happens, I'm free. He can’t legally take me back to Colossus – not if he's fucked his prisoner.

  As I said – it’s far from my ideal escape scenario, but I’m no longer sure what other option I might have. I need to do this – now.

  "Daccia,” I murmur seductively, biting my bottom lip. “You don't have to hold back. I want your cock so fucking badly.”

  Daccia stands there like a statue, but the outline of his foot-long cock – threatening to tear open the material of his pants – is all the indication I need that my plan might work.

  I lower my voice to a breathy whisper.

  “Make me your bitch, Daccia. Make me your little slut…"

  I whimper and squirm against my restraints. My breathy words are only half-designed to drive him wild. I know I have to play it carefully. Aurelians are addicted to submissive human women. It triggers something deep inside of them – their desire to dominate.

  I have to sound like I’m begging him – not seducing him.

  Fortunately, I know just how to play this towering Aurelian. I learned while I was in that Aurelian harem. I know how to leverage the weakness of Aurelians… Their obsession…

  The fact that Aurelian warriors spend their whole lives desperately searching for that ultimate form of domination – the Bond.

  The only way for an Aurelian to confirm whether or not a human female is his ‘Fated Mate’ is to fuck her – and that’s why Aurelians collect their huge harems, and still scour the universe further. Their mating frenzies are legendary because of their need to fuck any fertile female, just in case she is the one…

  The one woman with DNA compatible to theirs. The one woman who can sire their children.

  Suddenly, I freeze.

  A thought occurs. A ridiculous thought – a thought so unlikely that I scold myself for even considering it.

  But consider it I must.

  If I succeed in pushing Daccia over the edge, it won’t just be the rough mating frenzy I'll have to withstand. There is a possibility – a ridiculously, infinitesimally unlikely possibility – that I am his ‘Fated Mate.’

  It’s so unlikely that it’s not worth worrying about… But I am worrying about it.

  I know I shouldn’t. That out of all the billions of humans and Aurelians spread across the almost infinite width of the universe, the chances of me being the compatible Bonded mate of this Aurelian triad are so remote that it’s almost laughable…

  But it does happen.

  Sometimes, Aurelians do find their Fated Mate.

  Just look to the Emperor and his Queen, Jasmine. She’s the Bonded mate of the Emperor and his triad. They managed to find each other…

  More and more triads seem to be stumbling across their
Fated Mate…

  It could happen – and, if it does, I'll never be free again.

  The concrete walls of an Aurelian high security prison will be nothing compared to the imprisonment of the Bond.

  The Bond between an Aurelian triad and their Fated Mate is a chilling unification – one that binds Aurelian and human together for eternity. It grants their human mate a longer life, superior health, and many other benefits shrouded in legend...

  …but at a terrible cost.

  She is destined to bear the young of her Bonded triad. To be driven half-mad with mating lust herself. To become a prisoner in a different way – a prisoner to her own biology.

  But there’s no point worrying about that now. I need to escape. I need to focus on that.

  "Please, Daccia,” I murmur. “I need you."

  I utter a moan, and suddenly all I can think about is the heat of passion that's about to overtake us both if I’m successful. If Daccia just lets go – if he succumbs to his powerful urge to fuck and fill me – it’ll be a wild ride.

  I’m both terrified and eager. There's nothing that can compare to an Aurelian in full mating frenzy.

  For a moment, I look up and see Daccia’s right eye twitch. Gods – he’s so close to cracking…

  But then, suddenly, he growls. "Gag her."

  The AI responds instantly. Suddenly, a tendril darts out from the side of the chair and fills my mouth; like a steel cock.

  Fuck! Now I'm strapped down in the chair, and my last weapon – my voice – has been stolen from me.

  Even worse – even more humiliatingly – I’m now utterly turned on. I switched on my seductive wiles to lure Daccia, and ended up becoming aroused for real. My whole body is trembling. My pussy is throbbing. My nipples are painfully hard.

  …and yet there's nothing I can do about it.

  I stare up at Daccia, even though I can no longer move or speak.

  He knows how turned on I am – how much I want him to succumb to his desires and sink his big, beautiful cock inside of me.

  I don’t care – I won't ever feel embarrassed by my desires. It's only natural for a human female to crave these perfect specimens of alien masculinity. They’re like powerful, seven-feet-tall Greek Gods – and I already know what it’s like to be taken by them.