by Sabrina Kade
“What are we doing today?” I had to remind myself that under the leathery red skin, bulbous horn and hooves, he was humanoid. And didn’t someone say that in a Twilight Zone episode once? That people are alike. People are alike all over. However that episode ended, I can’t remember, but it doesn’t feel quite right when Alino fixes me with that detached grey-eyed expression.
“Red.” His voice is a series of garbles, but my translation device picks it up easily enough. He points to his hairless head and then to my pitch-black locks. “You. Red.”
I nod. It wasn’t a ton of information, but it’s more than I usually got, so I remember being happy to get it.
The fear for the process didn’t end there, however. Red hair. I wondered what he had in store for me that day. I’ve had most colors under the rainbow, and red could mean my natural ginger color or something like a familiar cartoon mermaid. I would swallow hard, wanting to ask Alino another question, but I already knew better.
He didn’t say another word to me after he began, and before I had a chance to brace myself, he gripped a chunk of my hair and pulled my head backward. I remember how much I wanted to cry out every time, but I knew better than to fight with Alino. He would then slather something cold into my hair, slick and slimy, and yet, nothing like hair dyes back home. They were special dyes, or, they were supposed to be. Alino would sometimes grumble that he hadn’t got the recipe quite right. I remember how it burned. Whatever he rubbed into my hair, cooked all the way down to my toes, and I would curl my hands tightly into fists until the pain subsided.
“Human female sensitive,” Alino would gargle. “Whiny bitch.”
I’d bite my tongue, fighting every instinct in my body that screamed take this jerk out. There would be no use in trying, though. Alino was over seven feet tall, and scaly armor covered his entire body. I’d often have nightmares of that horn on his nose piercing me through the heart if I angered him enough. And though Alino never chased after me, I knew the Rinoscs were fast. They could fall on all fours and run like cheetahs. I could never run away from him. And even if I did, what waited for me beyond this cage was something I didn’t want to face.
Just remember, he’s never going to have sex with you. He’ll never rape you.
He finds the whole idea disgusting. Remember that.
I hear the familiar sloshing sound as Alino continues to work the icy cold dye through my hair. The coloring is annoying, but it certainly wasn’t the worst part. After the hair, he’d work on my skin. No imperfections. No wrinkles. No lines. Full lips. Huge eyes. Alino always talked about his research, and though he never explained why or how, he acted like a plastic surgeon from Beverly Hills. For hours he would prick and prod me. Smooth creams on my face that burned. Paint my cheeks and my mouth. Crack my nose to reshape it. Inject something into my lips that would make my eyes water and my mouth burn.
I had to keep remembering.
Not rape. Not rape. This isn’t rape. He’s never going to rape me. I would chant this almost the entire time Alino would work on me. When he would finally stand away and tap of the horn on his nose with a finger. I guess this action was something similar to a human dragging his hand through his beard. But it was so much creepier.
“Done,” he’d garble. “You red. Good for pictures. Will sell many products. Maybe more humans.”
I don’t answer. I’m so afraid of what’s about to happen next, but Alino would merely grab my elbow and haul me to my feet. There was always one question I had to ask him. I asked him every time, and I’d continue to ask him until the day he gave me a different answer.
“Alino, you… you keep Sloane, right?”
His sharp chin would lower, his grey eyes piercing. I’d watch his attention drift from my hair to my eyes, to my tight skin and tingling lips.
“Keep. Yes. Sloane stays with me.”
That answer was always the same until it wasn’t.
I pinch my eyes shut, still remembering the alien who took care of me for almost two years. Alino stayed true to his word. He never raped me. He never asked me to suck him or any others off. He never shared me with the creeps who tried to touch me. But he also never told me what I did wrong. Why did he sell me off to the Sidyths? What changed? Did I become ugly? Had I aged? He had the equipment he used to keep me looking young no longer work? I never found out. But after almost two years, when he finished dying my hair deep red for the thirty-sixth time, I asked him the same question, and he looked down at me with the same expression.
His words were different, though.
“No, keep. Sloane goes away now.”
That was how my life with Alino finished, and I ended up on Hethdiss.
I’ve received an odd twist of luck by being with another race of aliens who don’t seem set on raping me. It’s warm enough outside the underground lairs where the Sidyths live and keep us, and though there’s a lot of rain, I don’t mind so much. I can go outside, and I don’t have to live in a cage with transparent walls. There’s a place called the Gathering Room where thirteen other women and I live. There’s also a second underground lair with six more, but I don’t know much about their situation anymore. Cliques have formed, as they always do with a bunch of girls, but I don’t worry about that so much.
At least there are other humans. Before, the only time I’d see humans was when I’d do a photo shoot. The Rinoscs loved the idea of a human male and female together in an intimate embrace. They’d put us on display to intrigue potential buyers. And though many aliens who owned male humans would ask me to engage in pleasure for their amusement, Alino would always say no.
Human male nasty. Ruin my precious brydyla. Too rough. Primitive.
The other Rinosc would usually argue that I was no better, and Alino would agree. It hurt, but his answer was still no.
No human or Rinosc was allowed to touch me.
I suppose it was a bittersweet situation.
Sweet because no one raped me. Bitter because I was no longer viewed as something worthy of sexual attention.
Luckily, part of the same situation is happening on Hethdiss. There are plenty of seven-foot-tall aliens; only these guys call themselves Sidyths. And somehow, they’re more humanoid than the Rinoscs. Best of all and most importantly, they’re not allowed to rape us either.
Layla isn’t wrong when she says she’s jealous of me. Just not for reasons she’s thinking.
I should be happy to have found yet another assignment where I don’t have to spread my legs. I’ve heard enough horror stories from the other girls that this is rarely the case. Some of the girls were friends with one that died or disappeared. I’m not entirely sure of the story, but it screams in my ear and lets me know that things could be worse. I’m happy where I’m at on Hethdiss. I am. 99 percent of the time I’m glad and grateful that these exiled aliens aren’t going to force me to spread my legs.
But then there’s that 1 percent. The one that whispers to me at night. The one itch I haven’t been able to scratch since I became a space entertainer. Sexual attention. I want someone to look at me and be like, damn, I’ve got to have that. I want someone to follow me around like Prince Korben follows Blythe and Dolan follows Layla. I want someone to throw caution to the wind because they’re too obsessed with me. They want me. They have to have me. They’ll take me if they have to.
I’m looking for a Prince Charming with a naughty side.
Just thinking about one of these aliens throwing me down and having their way with me is enough to make my eyes pop back open and glance around the Gathering Room. My gaze lands on the privacy bathroom stalls, and I remember how York got herself off in one before she mated with Azan. It wouldn’t be hard to do the same thing. I could sneak in, rub one out to ease the tension, and come back to lay down like I had to take a long, leisurely dump like my older brothers used to do.
The problem is, I don’t have anyone or anything to help bring me an orgasm other than characters from TV shows I used to watch back home. I certainly
can’t rub one out to Alino. And though so many of the human men I did shoots with were attractive, they weren’t manly. They’d had any spine stripped when they became a Rinosc’s property. It must have been emasculating. Rinoscs are bigger, stronger, and more violent than any human male I ever encountered. If one of them would tell them to rape me, they sure as heck would try. If they were told to leave me be, they would. Their sexual choices and preferences were no longer their own.
But they were pretty.
I remember how some of the staged looks reminded me so much of the movies I used to watch as a kid back home. When a mermaid could fall head over heels with a man at first sight and give up everything to be with him. When a girl was a slave to her family and charmed the pants off a prince so much that he wouldn’t rest until he had her. That’s the type of love I want, and from looks alone? A lot of the humans I modeled with fit the bill.
Tim had bright blue eyes and wavy black hair. For days I thought he would sweep me into his arms and say we’d escape this life. Together. But no. When his master called, he ran to her, dick wagging between his legs instead of a tail.
Jason had a great build and long blond hair. I called him the beast in my mind, but he couldn’t have been more afraid of his owner or pissing mine off with the occasional hungry glance. He never swung me over his shoulder and had his way with me. He never ached for me enough to risk everything. Heck, they wouldn’t risk anything.
I guess all the colorful hair and handsome men gave me a Prince Charming complex. And in this line of work, it’s the worst possible place to have one. There’s no Prince Charming here. There are alien males, and that’s it. All of them are afraid to defy anything Prince Korben’s requested. And listen, I’m not asking for one of them to rape me. Do not misinterpret my words. I want the pleasure to be consensual, but I want the guy to want me so darn bad that he can barely keep it together. It’s a tight rope to balance on, but it’s one I’ve come to desire more than anything.
I need sex, yes, but I need the guy to want me more than anything he’s ever known.
I want him to ache for me like I’m wearing glass slippers, a shell bra or golden gown.
But no one looks at me like that. Everyone listens to Prince Korben’s rules. No one risks anything. Sure, some of the Sidyths flirt with me, but no one longs for me like Dolan does for Layla. I want that. I want to be desired.
I’m not asking too much, right?
“Bitch, you’re getting that far off look in your face.”
I turn away from the bathroom, relieved that I didn’t try to rub one out. Lacey’s approaching, and though her full mouth is downturned, and her eyes narrowed, she’s not a terrible person. She just really hates this assignment. Like, loathes it. I’m not exactly sure of her reasons, but she avoids the Sidyths more than the workout twins. It doesn’t seem to be out of fear. It’s something else. Something dark.
“Sorry,” I mutter, sitting up and pulling my knees to my chest. “I’m thinking about movies I used to watch as a kid.” It’s not a lie. Not exactly.
“You shouldn’t dwell on shit like that. We’re stuck here, and despite how many of us feel, we’ve got to survive from one day to the next. Remember, you don’t have to mate with these assholes. This assignment has to end sooner or later.”
Right. It’s not the first time Lacey’s pointed this out to me, but I can’t help but wonder why she’s so set on getting away from Hethdiss. It’s not bad here. In fact, for someone who seems to hate aliens so much, she should want to stay here. The Sidyths leave her alone. They learned pretty early on that she wants nothing to do with any of them, and they respect that. Most aliens don’t, but I don’t bother reminding Lacey of this. Whatever’s happened to her hardened her, and I’m one of the few people she’s somewhat kind to.
Arrogantly, I’m worried what would happen if we had a falling out.
“Don’t you miss anything from back home?” I’m trying not to come across as nosy, but I can’t help myself. I’m still curious about Lacey. How did she end up here? If she hates aliens so much, why would she sign up to be a space entertainer? Or maybe she’s one of the few where this wasn’t her choice.
“No.”
I flinch at her sharp tone, staring into her cool gray eyes. She’s so pretty that it’s almost a shame she’s always sneering. When our eyes meet, she glances away, and her cheeks are pink for some reason. Must be some painful memory. Maybe she did have a choice, and she chose to get away from whatever made her blush like that from Earth.
“I don’t expect too much from anything lately, Sloane. Humans. Drakens. Sidyths. Entlas. They’re all the same.”
“They’re not,” I insist, hoping Lacey will meet my eyes, but of course she’s still staring down at the floor and biting down hard on her lower jaw.
“You say that because you’ve never been raped by one.” Lacey’s voice turns steely, so the conversation is finished for now.
Damn. And she’s not wrong. I don’t know what’s happened in Lacey’s past, but I sure do know about mine. I’ve never been raped by an alien. I never went to a training academy. I never had a cruel owner. I never had pleasure taken away from me. So far, being a space entertainer isn’t so terrible. And Lacey’s right. It’s made me a little too soft. A bit too unassuming. I fantasize too much about princes and fairy tales because I was always made up to look like one.
But I’m no princess. And Prince Charming sure as hell isn’t on Hethdiss.
At least not from the looks of anyone I’ve seen so far.
Not that I’m trying to take anything away from the girls who have been Chosen by Sidyths and are carrying their babies. The Sidyths aren’t bad. They’re tall, bulky, and pale. Like several shades lighter than me, and I had problems finding proper foundation at the Clinique counter. Scales cover their entire bodies, and no two aliens have them on the same places on their bodies. Some have them on their chest, some on their hands. One of the ones who follow Phoebe around has them on his palms and the bottoms of his feet. I heard it’s insanely painful. Also, they have bright golden eyes that remind me of a dragon’s, and two large canines on each side of their mouths that hang out on the sides despite how so few of them eat meat.
Despite the alienness, though, they’re physically beautiful.
They also have weaknesses. Layla found out that Sidyths, despite their builds, can’t handle rain and cold as well as we can. Layla’s mate gets sick and needs to lay down. I guess that explains all the sun rayers they have perched around our underground cave mansion.
But yeah, physically, there’s nothing wrong with the Sidyths. Especially one in particular. From the front, you’d hardly know he was an alien. He’s not quite seven feet, so he doesn’t look impossibly huge compared to me because I’m only an inch or two shy of six feet myself. And he has no scales on his front. They’re all on the back. And since he’s still incredibly built, yet slim, he looks like something right out of a fairy tale. Yeah, Exer is hot. I admit it.
The problem is, though he looks like a possible Prince Charming, he couldn’t be less like one in personality. Exer is a brooding, unsmiling, secretive, lost soul. I’d call him an outcast, but aliens aren’t like that. If he’s an outcast, why’s he here?
Maybe that’s why he keeps disappearing more and more lately.
Maybe he’s trying to separate himself from the group once and for all.
Exer leaving the group shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. After all, I did say he’s basically emo. But still, the idea of him going is enough to make me sit up straight and glance toward the Gathering Room opening.
I miss him.
He’s been leaving more and more lately for longer and longer periods. I don’t like it. Despite how unpleasant he is sometimes, I enjoy his company for the most part. I like busting through his gruff exterior. I like when he almost smiles. I like how he’s intriguing. Different.
Still, he couldn’t be further from Prince Charming.
“So, where’s y
our puppy dog today?”
I frown, knowing that someone else has decided to spark up a conversation now that Lacey has fallen silent. She’s not a fan favorite of most of the girls on this assignment, but I don’t have a problem with her. Still, I’m not sure I want to talk to anyone about Exer and why he’s missing in action. But an increasingly familiar cooing sound forces me to lift my eyes.
“Hey, Blythe,” I grumble, trying to force a smile on her face. I don’t want to be grumpy. Her husband is the prince around here, and she recently gave birth to a baby. A girl. A very, very pale baby girl with a few scales on her cheekbones and chubby thighs. She’s squirming around in Blythe’s arms, probably looking to feed, and I still don’t understand how Blythe’s so comfortable with everything. That baby is an alien — a cross-species baby. I don’t have anything against cross-species babies, but what happens if this assignment ends tomorrow?
Will Prince Korben get to keep the baby? Will everything Blythe went through be for nothing?
Blythe offers me a tired smile, glancing around the Gathering Room. “Barren in here today, isn’t it? Where’s Layla?”
“Where else?”
“Dolan.” She takes in a deep breath, shifting the baby around until she can begin to suckle. Dang. I thought Blythe’s breasts were big before, but now? I have to look away. Those enormous, heavy globes remind me too much of porn. “But you didn’t answer my question. Where’s your friend?”
“You called him a puppy earlier, so I didn’t know what you were talking about.”
“Fair enough.” Blythe chuckles, taking a seat next to me. “I can’t blame anyone for wanting time apart. I love Korben, don’t get me wrong, but he hovers over Kyeth and me so much that sometimes I can barely breathe. I need a break. Although, no offense, I was kind of hoping to see some of the others. York’s losing a bit of steam, at last, this close to the end of her pregnancy, and Ellis is only starting to get out of her morning sickness.”
I nod. It’s true. York’s been a damn beast for most of her pregnancy, but the past few weeks have hit her like a ton of bricks. She spends most of her time in bed now, waiting for her water to break. I guess seeing Blythe walking around with a little girl made her finally accept that she was going to give birth.
