by Corin Cain
I gulp at the thought of the three of them pressing me between them – making me feel so tiny and helpless as they claim every part of me. The thought of being Marcel’s little toy should make me revolted – but after nearly being sold to that murderous, vengeful Bullfrog, all I can think of is how safe I am in comparison. As their property, I’m perhaps safer than I have been for years – surrounded by three looming examples of the deadliest species in the universe.
For a moment, it’s as if there’s nobody else there – just me, Marcel, and his two eagerly-observing battle-brothers. Then, reality comes back – and I realize the bulbous eyes of every Bullfrog in this room are staring at me.
I’m surrounded by all the other patrons of the auction – and the greedy Bullfrogs are staring at me hungrily, lusting after me not just because of my bare breasts, but because the Aurelians have given me artificial value by paying such a high premium for me.
It makes me wonder what caused that schism between the grotesque, scarred Bullfrog and the triad of warriors. While the Bullfrog lost his composure by snatching for his Orb-Axe, the three Aurelians weren’t quite as inscrutable as they’d thought they might have been. Something must have motivated them to double their bid for me – wildly above the price of the other captives.
As he towers over me, Marcel slowly unclips the collar of the leash – the one that will soon wrap around my neck and link me to him like his pet. When that happens, he’ll wear me like a prize, and the collar and leash will be an unspoken statement of his dominance over me. I’ll have to ask him to unclasp me from him if I want to do anything – even so much as to shower alone. Marcel can keep me at his feet with this leash, like a little puppy, knowing I can’t get away.
He hasn’t touched me yet – but Marcel looks me up and down and the heat of his gaze makes me shudder. I’m still soaking wet from being thrown into the auction pool – and even now, water is dripping down my bedraggled hair and rolling in beads down between my naked breasts.
For a second, I suddenly imagine Marcel reaching forward and touching me – curling his huge thumb and forefinger around my nipple. I gasp at the mere thought of the sensation.
I could try to fight it. I could try to run – but I know it would be futile.
I remember all the training Ling gave me – how she said sometimes, the best move in hand-to-hand combat, or any type of engagement, is not to push back.
Be like water, she’d say – and I embrace that survival technique now. I admit to myself that I’m better off throwing away the last shreds of my pride and focusing on doing what I need to do to make it through this.
I glance left and right, looking for some last, desperate way out…
…and that’s when Marcel clicks his tongue to get my attention.
Clicks his tongue? Like I’m a pet, or something!
“Bend your head forward,” Marcel murmurs, towering over me. “You are ours now.”
His voice is deep and possessive. I sense that he feels that he owns me – that he thinks I’m his, and no more to him than purchased property.
But this towering, gorgeous warrior is wrong. The first chance I have, I’ll escape.
What about Tessa?
A knot of guilt tightens in my gut. I can’t think of her right now – I need to focus on my own survival.
Yet, guilt still gnaws at me. I know I won’t be able to get her out. I’m very far from certain I can get myself out.
Even if I achieve the impossible, and manage to give the Aurelians the slip, I’ll still have to make my way through an enormous, hostile ship teeming with Toads and Bullfrogs.
Assuming I do that, I’ve then got to find a way off this ship – and then, where would I even go?
Not to mention, all this has to be accomplished beneath the seemingly omnipresent gaze of the Toad Captain – the one who’d torn a new one into that scarred Bullfrog when he’d threatened to make trouble at the auction.
No, rescuing Tessa is not an option. Even if I knew where Tessa was going to be taken to, there’s nothing I can do to help her.
But they can.
The two Toad guards finally release my arms, hopping back down to their position above the viewing pool ready to take delivery of the next purchased slave.
I shudder at the feel of their slime, still glistening on my skin.
Marcel doesn’t seem to mind. He holds the leash up, calmly waiting for my submission.
When I don’t move fast enough, he murmurs:
“Don’t make me ask again - because I’ll ask with my palm on your ass, not my words.”
As he mutters those words, Marcel licks his lips. Lust flares in his eyes, and I sense that he’s imagining throwing me over his shoulder and slapping my ass until I beg for mercy.
That’s my destiny now. If I dare to ask anything of my new masters, Marcel or one of the others might snap out of the trance they fall into in my presence, and backhand for my insolence.
That’s what I should expect, right? Aurelians are proud. Marcel will expect a submissive slave – and if I don’t play the part sufficiently well, he’ll train me to adopt the role instead. Hard.
Even opening my mouth right now is a great risk.
But if I stay silent, then Tessa loses all hope. She’s going to be hauled off by that evil Bullfrog, to his aquarium somewhere on this ship.
I shudder.
Tessa might not last the night – not in the slimy hands of one of those sadistic creatures.
So, I steel myself. I can endure a brutal slap or a bare-bottom spanking if there’s a chance it might give me a chance to save my friend.
“Please,” I whisper.
Marcel looks at me, curious.
“Please,” I repeat, and then gesture towards Tessa as she kneels at the Bullfrog’s feet. “Please, buy that woman from the Bullfrogs.”
At the same time I whisper that, I step forward and lean my head down submissively – offering myself to the alien leader in a manner I hope he’ll find acceptable.
Apparently so. Marcel clips the leash around my neck.
I yelp as the tensioned collar contracts automatically to fit my slender neck – hugging firmly enough so I’ll always know it’s there, but not so tightly as to constrict my breathing.
I close my eyes as Marcel secures the collar. His fingers brush against my skin and send electric tingles through my body.
I’m not truly at his mercy. I know that with a touch, Marcel could make this leash tighten until I’m choking and gasping. My life is utterly in his huge, white hands.
He’s bought me – and now he plans to do whatever he wants to me.
The irony is that Marcel doesn’t even need the leash – it’s all for show. One of his huge hands could wrap around my neck with room to spare – or crush it just as effortlessly.
Yes – Marcel could end me with a squeeze.
The leash binds me to his wrist – and it symbolizes that now he has me. The collar is merely a formality. I couldn’t escape one of these huge, dominant warriors if I tried – much less three of them.
But the public symbol of his ownership of me apparently pleases Marcel, and I wonder if that shows my plea fell on deaf ears. I feel like an idiot for pleading with the Aurelians to save Tessa. Why would they?
I look up, into Marcel’s cold, slate-grey eyes – searching for even the slightest trace of humanity in his grey, emotionless eyes.
There’s none.
Dismayed, I lift my hands to cover my exposed breasts – and that’s when I get a reaction out of him. Marcel’s jaw clenches – and I don’t need to hear his command. I know what he wants.
I lower my arms slowly to my sides – exposing my breasts to the room.
There’s nothing I can read in Marcel’s eyes. There’s no mercy there – no humanity. All I see is smoldering, alien desire and a deep, possessive glare. He drinks me in with those impassive eyes – as if he’s searing my features into his memory.
Marcel knows that within minutes,
he could have me in his private chambers – leashed to his wrist, pulling at my collar, and forcing my head down against his manhood. He could effortlessly force me to take his cock deep down to my throat – and then he’d make me swallow every drop of his seed when he exploded; pressing me down against his thick, heavy balls as he empties them into my obediently sucking mouth.
He knows he could descend into the mating rage at any time – losing himself utterly in the ecstasy of breaking in a new slave. My imagination races as I envision the way he’d press my body down beneath him, wrenching my resisting legs open, and then forcing every inch of his swollen manhood deep inside of me while I struggle – writhing and flailing uselessly beneath him.
What else could I do? Against five-hundred-pounds of swollen, dominant alien warrior, I’m as helpless as a kitten. There’s nothing I could do except submit to his inherent, overwhelming dominance.
As he looms over me, Marcel breathes in, flaring his nostrils. I stiffen, feeling violated as I realize he’s tasting my scent right there in front of me.
“Please,” I whisper again – and for a second, I’m not even sure what I’m begging for.
Then, rationality returns, and I gesture towards Tessa once again.
The last shred of my pride melts away. I’d rather humiliate myself and save Tessa than allow my stubborn pride to let her be taken by that Bullfrog.
Besides. I’m leashed to this Aurelian’s arm. There’s nothing I can do – nothing except hope beyond hope that even Rogue Aurelians retain a tiny shred of their species protective instincts.
I know Aurelians. I know they lose control of their minds – surrendering to their cocks. They’re addicted to dominance, and to taming women through their harsh punishments and rough mating.
Despite that, though, the Aurelian species has a long-established history of protecting those weaker than they are; especially humans. Aurelian warriors are even more highly protective of the women in their harems – calmly risking their own lives to protect them.
At their core, Aurelians are a noble race – and the Aurelian Empire has protected human settlements and planets for countless generations.
But that’s the Empire – and these three Aurelians are Rogue.
What does that mean? I don’t know. All I can decide about these three warriors is that their defection occurred recently. The Orb-Blades of the three warriors prove that they spent a hundred years of service to the Aurelian Empire, as all of their kind do, and that shows how they’d been raised with a commitment to protecting humanity from danger.
I pray to the Gods there are still some shreds of those protective instincts left.
I meet Marcel’s gaze once again, and murmur:
“Please, Master.”
I’m begging – using a word I know will trigger something deep and instinctual in the proud warrior. My cheeks burn with shame as I humiliate myself in front of this towering alien, but it’s all I can think of at this moment.
Marcel’s eyes widen, staring at me. That raw hunger in his eyes peaks. He towers above me and I hope – desperately – that this hunger could be used to bargain for Tessa’s life.
My helplessness and this act of subservience fills me with hot shame – but much to my surprise, something else stirs in me as well.
Oh, Gods!
Suddenly, I find my nipples hardening into sensitive peaks – my body betraying me as I beg and plead with my new master. I just hope it works. If instead, he grows annoyed at my insistent begging, Marcel might just throw me over his shoulders and make me endure the hard slaps of his huge palm across my ass.
I stare up, into his impassive eyes, and I see nothing.
What more could I possibly do?
Then, I have a moment of inspiration – and swallowing what remains of my pride, I bend and kneel at Marcel’s feet.
My cheeks burn red with humiliation, especially as the Bullfrogs chortle and laugh all around me. They gibber in their brutish, guttural tongue – and I don’t need to understand their language to know what they’re saying.
They’re laughing at how quickly I’ve broken.
They’re laughing at how eagerly I’ve fallen prostrate at this alien warrior’s feet – just like all those women who flock to join the Aurelian harems.
But the worst part? As I humiliate myself, I feel heat growing between my legs. As I kneel there, I feel my clit begin to tingle with need. I nearly sob from frustration – I should hate these men – but my body is betraying me.
The logical part of my brain screams in protest – but it’s no good. I know these three Aurelians are virtually as despicable as the Toads are – but their very abhorrent act of buying me actually wound up saving me from an even more terrible fate.
I shiver, and accept that it’s as if my body is controlling my mind. It suddenly feels so right to let these three warriors take control. I look up, and Marcel breathes in deeply as he stares down at me – tasting my scent in the air.
He licks his lips.
I moan a little, and I hope none of the Bullfrogs heard it.
I’ve know the rumors about Aurelians, and suddenly I can’t think of anything else.
I was told this one particular rumor in a bar one time – and if only from the way Marcel has been sniffing the air, I now instantly believe it.
Aurelians can smell and taste the need of a woman.
I gulp. Suddenly, there’s a new edge to the shame I feel about my humiliation.
Not only am I kneeling in front of them and begging them for help – but all three Aurelians can taste how my body is reacting to this act of submission…
How it’s making my clit tingle, and my thighs hot with wetness.
Snap!
Suddenly, there’s a crack that sounds like bones breaking. My searing eye-contact with Marcel breaks instantly, and I look past him in shock.
There, behind his leader, the Aurelian with the hollow cheeks is sitting, snapping his fingers.
He has a haunted, faraway look in his eyes – and, as I watch, the towering warrior stands until he’s beside his leader, and then snaps his fingers again.
The sounds pierces the room.
Slowly, the Aurelian points toward Tessa.
The Bullfrog who’d just purchased my friend yanks her backward, stroking her hair possessively. Strands of mucus and slime stick to her fair hair, stretching in ropes between her matted locks and the Bullfrog’s glistening fingers.
Tessa glances toward me, her eyes pleading.
I know what those eyes are saying. She’s begging me to help her.
But I can’t. I can’t do anything – nothing except pray the Aurelians will have some shred of decency and try to spare my friend.
And if they don’t have decency?
“I’ll do anything,” I whisper, so softly that only the Aurelians can hear me. “Anything.”
I utter that word with such dripping sensuality that the third Aurelian – the one with the thick lips and the cocky swagger – jumps to his feet, and strides confidently towards the Bullfrog who owns Tessa.
“We’ve worked up quite an appetite,” the Aurelian grins. “This one looks tasty.”
The Bullfrog pulls Tessa closer to him protectively – although it’s very clear the last concern he has is for Tessa’s safety.
“Tasty!,” he grunts out, eyes wide. “Yes! Me hungry!” Spittle flies as the Bullfrog mouths the Common tongue
The Aurelian with the thick lips cocks his head to the side.
“Let us have her. We’ll make it worth your while.”
I know the Aurelian should be staring at Tessa – especially considering he just offered to buy her. I’d been expecting him to act all eager – excited at the thought of another little toy to use.
Instead, though, the Aurelian glances over toward me – and it feels like electricity crackles between us as our eyes meet.
I wonder how much of the smoldering need in his eyes is for me, and how much is fixated on the idea of Tessa a
nd I volunteering to both pleasure him at the same time.
Ugh, men are all the same…
…then again, I did promise the Aurelians I’d do anything.
And right now?
I’d fuck them willingly, here and now, in front of all the Bullfrogs if I thought it meant a chance at keeping Tessa safe.
Whatever pride I have left is not worth a woman’s life.
And I say that kneeling in front of a towering, alien warrior who takes women as his property.
The old me would have fought against this very situation. The old me would have already been plotting how to get that Orb-Blade hilt from Marcel’s waist – how to activate the weapon, and jam it up into his throat.
But the new me?
She feels so weak and pathetic – like I’ve been tossed around an asteroid storm. I feel defeated, useless…
…but I must stop.
Despite my weakness, a little bit of the old me still remains – and she urges me to think nothing of the risk I face in asking for this favor. They just purchased me – it’s doubtful they’ll mark up their new property with anything more than a stinging, red handprint on my cheek.
The only question is – which cheek?
But even as I think that, my mind rebels.
No! I can’t think of them as my masters. The moment I do, they’ll own more than just my body. They’ll own my mind, as well.
The Bullfrog peers suspiciously at the three Aurelians, his bulbous eyes darting to their Orb-Blades. As always, the warriors stand ready to draw their weapons at any moment.
The Bullfrog seems to realize this – and after the humiliating example set by his scarred compatriot, he is more open to negotiation.
“You want her?” The Bullfrog gurgles. “You pay double for her, then!”
Marcel smiles – but the cold grin never touches his eyes.
As he stands there, towering above the seated Bullfrog, we all watch his hand slowly travel toward the hilt of his Orb-Blade.
“How about we settle this the old way?” Marcel grins. “My sword against your axe - survivor takes all?”
I shudder.
