by Corin Cain
This is the true frontier – and it’s not pretty.
All around us, humans and Toads gamble and laugh, drinking in the bars of the underground marketplace. I watch with horror at a fighting pit nearby, where a woman is facing up against a monstrous beast.
I might get sold into… into that!
Fear grips me as I imagine being forced into a fighting pit, where scumbags would bet to see how long I’d survive against any nature of otherworldly beast. Maybe an oversized creature akin to an Old-Earth jaguar, or crocodile – or maybe something worse.
I shudder at the thought of being thrown into a fighting pit opposite a Scorp, for example.
There’d be no chance against a beast like that – and, as if to prove my point, I have to look away as the poor girl in the fighting pit screams as she’s set upon by the beast she’s facing.
Her screams don’t last long.
My heart pounds, but there’s nothing I can do. As we’re jostled through the crowd a hand gropes my ass, and I pull sharply away, tears in my eyes.
Glancing back, I can see that it was a human in a leather jacket who decided to ‘taste the wares’ with his groping hand. The Toad slave-master lashes his whip at the leering man, and it crackles with electricity as hits the human. He yelps and backs off, suitably chastised
Heads turn at the sound of the man’s cries, and the Toad slave-master takes advantage of the attention. “You want these wares? You buy them! Come to the auction for these sweet, human females!”
I shudder. I’m going to be sold into slavery.
What kind of a scumbag would buy me? What’s the best case?
I don’t know what I should hope for. A human, at least. My eyes are drawn to one of only four Aurelians in this marketplace. The restaurant he sits at is packed, but there’s no one sitting at the tables anywhere near him.
I don’t blame the other patrons for keeping their distance. Aurelians have a presence to them, that resonates far beyond even their already-massive seven-feet-tall frames, and their impossibly-chiseled muscles. Those slate-grey eyes stare as if they could pierce through your soul.
What would it be like to be sold to an Aurelian?
The Aurelian Empire forbids slavery… and any Aurelian caught buying women is put on the Aurelian Law Enforcement’s Kill List. That means any Aurelian in attendance at this marketplace is a Rogue Aurelian – one who has forsaken the laws of his Empire, and who probably views humans as stupid, weak, and unable to take care of themselves.
The Toad spits on us. His flabby, slobbering lips waggle as his acidic spittle hits us. A drop lands above my eyes, and I wipe it off before it can drip down. The acid in their bile isn’t strong enough to burn you if you clear it off quickly enough – but only as long as you keep it out of your eyes, mouth…
…or any more sensitive parts.
“Move!” The Toad slave-master snarls, and we have to jog after him again as he powers his floating chair forward. His huge belly jiggles as he flies. We all have to blink as we follow him, because we’re constantly hit with spurts of water – a wet, green liquid that his chair constantly sprays him with; keeping his warty body moist despite the dryness of this outskirt world.
As I jog after him, I think about how horrific it is to be sold at market as a slave – reduced to human livestock, suitable for obedient labor, repetitive grunt work… Or as the sexual plaything of some cruel master.
I’m so much more than a pair of hardworking hands and a tight, warm cunt! But it won’t matter when I’m up on that stage. It won’t matter to the slave-buyers that I’m a sculptor, or that I can cook French toast to die for.
Whoever buys me is after me for one reason, and one reason only. As a female slave, I’m not sure if I’m lucky or not to be spared the grueling fate that befalls the workhorse male slaves.
I shudder at the thought, hoping desperately that I won’t be bought by a Toad. Of all the grisly fates that could await me – even the fighting pit, and facing a Scorp for the entertainment of the masses – there’s nothing more disgusting to me than the idea of one of those disgusting Toad bastards purchasing me… Forcing me to do his evil bidding in whatever dark, dank bedroom or aquarium they lurk in.
The Toad slave-master’s chair shudders to a halt. We’re forced to go one-by-one through a set of doors ahead of us.
I look forward with horror. There are over a hundred women beyond the doorway, all with collars around their necks. Some are wearing thin slips like me, and some are completely naked. The Toad slave-master grins and presses something on his wrist. The leases all fall off our collars – making room for our buyers to attach their own leashes, leading to their wrists instead.
Up on stage, an auction-master stands in a blue suit, with a gold chain hanging down around his chest. I have the urge to try and grab it – to choke him to death with it in front of all these leering, jeering customers.
“Eyes down,” the auction-master snarls – and instead of angry defiance, I’m ashamed at myself when I look down to his feet instead.
“You’ve got a good crop.”
The auction-master is talking to the Toad, and our disgusting owner chuckles at the compliment.
“Don’t be underselling them, now,” he slobbers. “I should make good profit on these ones. Good profit. Especially that one. Look at the ass on her!” A spray of spittle hits me, and I feel the slaver’s hover-chair descending. The disgusting Toad gives me a hard smack on my ass. My cheeks turn bright red with shame, and the other four women look away – probably relieved that I’m the center of this unwanted attention.
“We’ll sell the lot, don’t you worry,” the auction-master promises, as casually as if he was selling cupcakes at a bake sale. Then he turns to us, and snaps: “Bitches, get in line!”
We file into the line and I realize I’m just an object to the auction-master. I’m just a piece of meat, to be sold off to the highest bidder.
I shudder.
What if it’s a Toad?
What if I’m sold to a Toad?
Oh, Gods! Even if it’s a human, I’m doomed. What kind of a sick fuck would buy a woman at an auction? I’m screwed. I’m so fucking screwed! I need to find a way to escape.
There’s no way out. I’m just one in a line of women. There are only two guards behind us, but they have long sticks that buzz with painful electricity – and they know the threat of our individual suffering maintains our collective obedience.
It disgusts me. Together, the hundred or so women could easily overpower those two guards. Hell, I wish I could lead the rebellion… But I know that before the huddled masses could rise against our owners, I’d be writhing on the ground in agony as one of the guards presses that vicious weapon against my body – and nobody else will lead a revolt for exactly the same reason.
There’s nothing I can do but wait.
The woman in front of me, who earlier I helped stand up after she was thrown to the ground, is openly crying. She’s naked except for a thin thong, and one of the guards looks towards her with annoyance.
“Be quiet,” I hiss, trying to protect her. It doesn’t help. She continues to sob, and one of the guards walks over to her and gives her a hard slap.
“Shut the fuck up!”
As the guard’s warning rings in the girl’s ear, I reach forward and gently touch her shoulder. She turns and looks at me, and as our eyes meet her sobs gently slow and stop.
The auction-master walks past us, judging us. Most men would look at a hundred naked and half-naked women with lust, but he just stares at us like we’re horseflesh. He mutters under his breath, then walks through the slit in the red curtain.
His amplified voice suddenly fills the marketplace, as the auction-master takes to the stage.
“Welcome, welcome! Today we have fine wares for you and your pleasure. One hundred and six fresh, young, willing humans for your purchase and use! You won’t be able to resist tasting the wares before you rent them out in your brothels!”
As I listen to this, I want to puke. It’s far worse than I expected. I thought I’d be bought by an individual – an Aurelian, human, or God’s forbid, a Toad – for his personal pleasure and use…
…but apparently, the buyers in attendance today are all brothel owners; and whichever unfortunate women they purchase will be forced to sell their bodies for his profit.
That’s a thousand times worse than being owned by one man. Instead, I’ll be a whore used by countless men… And Toads, or whoever and whatever else wants to pay the price to get between my legs.
I look over at the guards. They don’t have guns – because they don’t ever want to kill the wares, just subdue them.
Yet they have those electric prods, and that means there’s no escape. My legs are still aching from the trek from the ship to the slave auction, and I couldn’t outrun those guards anyway.
Where would I even escape to? Even If I somehow managed to get off the stage, and escape the guards in this room, I’d burst out into the freedom of this marketplace…
…and find myself nearly naked, utterly helpless, and alone on a planet dedicated to slavery.
Speaking of which…
Fuck. I don’t even know what planet I’m on!
The curtains suddenly open and spotlights glare over us. I blink, trying to get a look at the crowd, but the bright lights burn my eyes.
Oh, Gods! Get me out of here!
3
Riff
The curtains open wide and my cock surges. I feel a hint of pity for the women that we won’t buy, but their lives are not my concern.
There are over a hundred gorgeous human females out there, and each one of them makes my mouth water.
Oh, humans… Their species is so curvaceous and soft compared to the hard bodies of the all-male Aurelian species.
We Aurelians mock human women for lusting after us… But the reverse isn’t just true; it’s a defining trait of our people. We live to fight, and to fuck – and human woman are like oxygen to us.
I let my eyes graze over these beautiful specimens.
Already, I’m discounting them.
Too skinny. Too sullen. Too… Ah, yes, that one!
I can feel the other two members of my triad staring at the same girl.
Even amidst a hundred other women, this one is truly a work of art.
She has a thick bottom that I can see clearly when she stands sideways. Her rolling hips and ample bosom radiate fertility and sexual promise. I let my eyes travel past her, and I’ll admit there are a few other women in the group that have the same aura of fertility that riles me up…
…but none quite like this one.
I flick the gold coin across my knuckles idly. Doing so helps me focus… but focus is the last thing I want right now. This is a last escape before the bloodshed – our final chance to distract ourselves from the trials ahead.
But that’s life on the outskirts of the universe. Even here, when we’re about to embark on a pleasurable distraction, we’re sitting amidst tinder just waiting for a spark. Even our rare moments of relaxation are balanced on the knife’s edge of danger.
For example, there are plenty of Toads in the crowd here today. Any of them could confront us at any moment; and only the foolishness of doing so prevents them. All the members of their species bring up suspicion in me…
…but that’s nothing compared to the dark hatred my blood-brother Daran holds for their kind.
The twin auras of both my battle-brothers are dull with rage inside my mind. I know their skin crawls for the release and focus of battle… of bloodshed. Even the moment we’re taking right now – of distraction, searching for our fated mate – is like torture to them.
But we’ll let it out tonight – that frustration broiling inside each of us. When we’ve bought a new crop of women we’ll unleash the furled beast within. My cock churns at the very thought of it…
That first claiming is the sweetest. Feeling the sweet little cunt of a wench pressed open for the first time, unable and unwilling to resist the hard rod of my cock…
That sweet sensation is pure bliss. It’s always followed by disappointment – harsh and cruel – once I realize the pretty little thing I’m fucking isn’t her… My fated mate…
…but, by that time, the frenzy of lust has already overcome me, and I let out my frustrations into whichever girl’s wet and willing body regardless.
It’s a cruel paradox; to feel balanced on the cusp of such pleasure, but always have it tinged with such regret.
But imagine if, one day – maybe today – we beat the incalculable odds and actually find our fated mate. Imagine how incredible it would feel to bask in the sweet release of a willing wench’s tight, eager cunt…
…and then gaze into her eyes and realize she’s the one.
Will that ever happen? Maybe not – but the only way to guarantee that is not to try. Not to embark on this fool’s errand we’ve followed for as long as we’ve shared this common purpose.
It was five years since we were last in an auction house like this. We’d bought ten women then, rescued from whatever grisly fate they’d have faced at the hands of a human brothel-keeper, or the slimy hands of a Toad harem-owner.
Of the ten, all of them chose to lay with us. We give them that choice – neither my blood-brothers or I will ever take a woman unwillingly. Fortunately, given the innate attraction human females seem to have for Aurelians, it’s never been a challenge to get them to offer themselves to our hard cocks and eager tongues.
Of those ten, six are still in our harem. Four left, taking the severance package we offered them instead. We know not where they went – only that we’d given them an escape from whatever fate slavery would have condemned them to.
My mind returns to the present, and I look up at the stage; where the ‘wares’ are displayed.
On stage, the huddled masses of women are downcast. They stare at their feet – understandably forlorn and broken-hearted at their predicament.
My gaze is drawn to that first, gorgeously large-bottomed woman – the one I’d noticed instantly as soon as she’d been brought up on stage. Of all the beauties being offered for sale this day, she stands apart. There’s something about her.
The young woman is striking for another reason. Unlike all the other slaves being offered for sale, she stares up at the crowd – blinking in the bright light. Her eyes scan the crowd, and when they finally find mine, her expression flares with righteous anger.
A feisty one!
My fingers curl almost involuntarily, imagining how satisfying it would feel to slap my hand down against her round, ripe bottom. Her feisty nature is like a drug to me – making my pulse race. Defiance is a challenge, and that’s something no Aurelian can resist.
Yes, with her, I could delay the mating. I’d let myself enjoy an hour or two of wondering if this full-figured, feisty beauty was my mate or not. I’d enjoy training her to be my perfect little toy… Marking that full, round bottom as mine – spanking it until it was red with my handprints…
I shudder. What is it about this specimen in particular?
I resolve then and there that we will buy her – even if such a fine specimen has the bidding driven up to three times the average price. I want her even if we have to sacrifice purchasing other women to do so.
Daran leans forward: “She’s perfection.”
I turn and glance at my battle-brother. I know that he intended to keep the words to himself; but it’s difficult not to see the look of lust in his slate-grey eyes. I know I’m not the only one taken by her. It’s not just the perfect curves of this woman’s ripe body, or the large rump that begs to be spanked, or even her thick, full breasts – that swell as if they want to be caressed and groped beneath my huge hands.
No, there’s a fire to her. I can feel it from here.
The coin dances across my knuckles. It’s pure gold, and I know I could trade it for her on the spot…
This has never happened be
fore.
I’ve felt the mating rage build up inside me, needing to be sated – but never before have I wanted to taste a woman so badly.
Never before have I wanted to run my tongue over the curves of a human wench, to taste her sweet nectar and to make her writhe and wriggle beneath me in ultimate pleasure.
Never before have I wanted to train a woman so badly – to teach her to get onto her knees at the snap of my fingers, and open her mouth eagerly to take my cock. I harden in my pants at the very thought of it – all the blood flowing to my member. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, my pants painfully tight.
A thought sparks inside me. I suddenly know that until I’m deep inside of this beautiful creature, I will never be sated again.
4
Petra
There are three Rogue Aurelians in the auction.
I feel an instant surge of anger towards them. Humans and Toads, I can understand. Aurelians, though, have no business being at a slave auction.
Their species are marble perfection. Seven-feet of pure sex appeal, at a minimum. Their haughty, arrogant species looks down at humans – and it doesn’t help that half the women I know would gladly throw themselves at the feet of these towering aliens, just for a chance to join their vast harems.
If Aurelians are at a slave auction, it isn’t because they lack the ability to get their own women – we have human females across the universe literally begging to be ‘owned’ by them.
No. These Rogue Aurelians are either in the sex trade – human traffickers, willing to risk the death penalty to source women and smuggle them into the Aurelian Empire…
…or they just enjoy the feeling of owning someone.
Really owning them – as property, rather than just willing volunteers for their harems.
All Aurelians are lustful – but the sight of these Rogue Aurelians reminds me of something I’d read in my studies of Old-Earth literature.
Everything is about sex, the old saying had read…
…except sex. That’s about power.
