As one of the goons tossed me over his shoulder, I was still trying to figure out everything that happened.
The assistant waited in the hallway. He gave my ass a slap. “She came back earlier than usual. If there were time, I’d finish up where he left off, but alas, you’re heading for outer space in an hour.”
“So if it’s a game, and she’s in on it, why the six weeks in the basement?”
“Oh they both love watching their victims before the climax. You were the star of the show for all that time.”
“They’re sick.”
He shrugged. “They’re rich and powerful. The rest of us are pawns. Enjoy your diplomatic mission.”
It had to be better than what had almost happened.
Chapter Two
Dylos
I strolled between the tables, inspecting our captives. Squeezing a nipple here, stroking the curve of an ass there, with the casual indifference of a well-fed matron wandering through the stalls at a Naridian meat market.
Other than a faint whimper or two, I got no response.
The females had barely stirred when I ordered my crewman to strip off their clothes so I could inspect them thoroughly before making my choice. I chalked up their stupor to heavy sedation before transport, another poor choice by the gutless worm who sent his females to our solport rather than grant our request for aid and shelter on his planet.
An Arythian warrior would have fought to the death before he ever allowed an alien male to touch one of our women. Their cowardly leader gave us his world’s most precious treasures, to use however we chose. If he really wanted to assure that we stayed away, he should have applied cybellus instead of giving them drugs that put them to sleep. By the time they arrived, they’d have been half-crazed with lust, ready to fuck every warrior on the ship. My crew would have been far too exhausted to plan the invasion he feared.
Mantsk had already chosen one of the captives, as was his due. As captain of the solport, he’d been the ranking officer when they arrived. When he contacted me with the news, I gave the order that he be allowed first choice, to show my respect for his position. After the disaster that had befallen us, it was important for our men to know our chain of command was intact.
As for me, I was here out of duty. Nothing more. These alien females held no appeal for me. Skin in varying shades of beige, hair brown or dull yellow, except for one. Her body had a warm, deep hue, like a mug of Veccan honeymead, and her head was covered in a tangled mass of black curls. I lingered for a moment, running my fingers through the matching curls below. Her eyelids fluttered, but she never woke up.
I turned away, bored. Any physical needs I had these days were satisfied by consorts at the Rapture Dome on Girra Sola. I paid well for their services, and they delivered, complete with wild screams and lavish praise of my sexual prowess. Without any of the demands that came along afterward from a mate.
Especially a mate determined to breed. When I first met her, I thought my Illora was the most beautiful female I’d ever seen. Soft pink skin, hair a cream-colored cloud that fell around her shoulders. I couldn’t get enough of her. We fucked like wild tarazzas, spending every minute we could in bed when I came home from a mission.
But as the moontides turned into sol cycles with no offspring, she became desperate. When I walked in the door, she’d greet me smeared in cybellus, her eyes wild. Our mating was no longer filled with joy at being together again. It became just another duty required of me.
Arythios had no male equivalent of cybellus. No magical potion to stimulate my desire. In our society, males prided themselves on being ready for sex all the time. Even when my fellow warriors and I were alone, getting drunk and sharing our darkest secrets, no one ever confessed that sometimes he wasn’t in the mood. Worry, exhaustion, pain—to hear us brag, nothing ever slowed us down.
I fought back a wave of grief tinged with guilt, concentrating on the rage that simmered inside me night and day. I was free of my duties as a mate. Illora was gone. Gone, along with everyone else I cared about. My parents, my younger sister. All the children, the elderly, our ruling class—every inhabitant of my planet was dead. Only myself and a handful of other warriors remained. Occupants of starships out on maneuvers when an unknown enemy attacked.
Had the tragedy occurred on another world, I’d have taken in those who escaped death, greeted them by saying, “Thanks be to the gods for your survival.”
But I didn’t thank the gods for my own survival. I cursed them. Cursed them for taking all those innocent souls, cursed them for allowing our world to be destroyed. Cursed them most of all for leaving me alive.
The images haunted me, awake or asleep. They’d been sent back by the vessels we sent speeding to Arythios as soon as we lost contact with our world. Unmanned vessels, traveling at a speed our life form could not withstand, carrying defensive weapons, along with search-and-rescue ships bearing emergency supplies.
We never deployed the defense weapons. The enemy was long gone. As for the other ships, they searched every inch of our world. But there was no one left to rescue.
They sent back pictures of our thriving cities destroyed, only ghostly shells of collapsed buildings remaining, with no signs of life. Once-majestic forests reduced to skeletons, their blackened branches piercing a sky filled with smoke. Our beautiful purple ocean now gray, with carcasses of fish and other marine life rotting on its shores.
We never returned.
Calling a conclave of the remaining Arythian forces at the solport, I announced my decision.
“Our loved ones are gone. Our families, our friends, our rulers—all slaughtered. Our beautiful world lies in ruins,” I began. “Fellow warriors, we are all that remain. No matter how hard we fight, we can never bring them back. But we can seek justice.” My voice rose. “I propose we form two squadrons. I will lead one, tracking down the evil creatures who murdered our people and destroyed our world.” I looked out over the pitifully small sea of gray faces, some lined with grief, others twisted in rage. My warriors. All that remained of the formidable armies of Arythios.
The fate of our race lay on their shoulders. Theirs…and mine. My troops looked to me for leadership, yet I was as crippled by anger and sorrow as they were.
From somewhere deep inside, I summoned up strength I never knew I possessed. “They showed no mercy, and they will get none in return. When we find them, I vow we will wreak vengeance upon their heads,” I shouted. “Who will fight with me?”
The Great Hall of the solport shook at the thunderous response. “I will!” they cried as one.
I knew they would. To a man, they hungered for blood. But I needed warriors for the other squadron, one more vital to our ultimate survival. I had to make it sound equally appealing.
“Mantsk, you will remain here as captain of the solport. For now, it is the only home we have. I leave it in the capable hands of you and your crew. I know you will guard it well.”
“Arythios is no more,” I continued. “But if our race is to go on, we need a new home. I’ve chosen Commander Joran to lead the other squadron on a reconnaissance mission to find a new world where, one day, Arythians may once again dwell in peace and harmony. It is a perilous mission, exploring unknown, uninhabited worlds to find one compatible with our life force. His band of warriors will face dangers we cannot even imagine.”
I scanned the faces before me, meeting their eyes one by one.
“I need volunteers for this mission.”
My heart swelled with pride as they stepped forward. So many that we ended up drawing names to decide who would join me and who would go with Joran. I included Mantsk’s crew in the drawing, so that no man would be left out. We’d rotate the warriors in both missions, using the solport as a place to rest and recharge.
I assembled my officers. We made our plans, reaching out to the alien worlds in Vector Six, who had banded together to form an Interstellar Federation. They ignored our requests for help or sanctuary—except for the leader
of a minor planet called Earth. I thought their rejection was foolish as well as short-sided. Our enemy could strike in their vector next. We all stood a better chance of defeating them if we became allies.
The single offer we received was an insult. Rather than pledging military aid or granting us a safe haven, the Terran leader offered to send us females from his world. “As a gesture of our goodwill, to see to the needs of your crew,” he said.
Our world was gone and his idea of help was to send us females to fuck? My first impulse was to tell him he and his human whores could go to the seventh moon of Sinela. Goodwill had nothing to do with it. He was trying to save his planet from being invaded - by us. As an unknown race, to the Terrans we were probably as big a threat as the enemy who destroyed our planet.
But I swallowed my fury long enough to let reason prevail. Every Arythian female was dead. My warriors and I were the last of our race. We didn’t need sex partners. There were plenty of pleasure palaces whirling through the cosmos, all of them staffed with sterile females happy to satisfy the most depraved desires of any alien with riches to offer in trade.
But we did need females who could bear our young. Without breeders, our race would die with us. Captive females, even unattractive pasty-white humans, would do for a start. One day, perhaps we would come upon a world with colorful females we found more appealing.
So here I was, deep inside the solport in a bay that had been pressed into service as a holding station for rows of semi-dormant human bodies. As admiral, commander of what remained of the greatest fleet of starships in our vector, I was the highest ranking Arythian alive. Like it or not, duty required me to choose one of these females as a mate. Impregnate her quickly and see to all her needs as well as the needs of the offspring I sired, upholding the responsibilities of a male of my species. Then do it over and over again. To save our race from extinction.
I heard a gasp and looked down…into a pair of deep-blue eyes. One of the females had finally awakened, and she was staring right at me.
“Who be you? Me where?”
Though her grammar and pronunciation were atrocious, I understood her. Thank the gods at least her pathetic leader had done one thing right. The translation device he’d fitted all of them with seemed to be working. She came equipped with a rudimentary knowledge of Arythian. According to the information the Terran leader sent, the longer the females were exposed to our language, the more their ability to communicate with us would improve.
“I am Admiral Dylos, commander of the Arythian Starfleet. You are on our solport. We are currently traveling through Vector Six of the galaxy.”
Her eyes widened, and she struggled to sit up, but a force field had been engaged to hold her and the others in place while they slept.
“Oh my god! I’ve gotta get out of here. You…you’re a fucking alien!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the crew member who’d been tending to the captives drift closer. No doubt his account of my first encounter with the human would be all over the solport as soon as his shift ended. Even if I’d been alone, I could not allow any female, especially one destined to become an Arythian mate, to speak to me with such disrespect. Clearly, these aliens had not been educated in proper etiquette before being shipped to us, let alone their place as slaves.
My world did not condone ownership of any sentient being by another. But my world was gone. We’d need to take into account the differences between our standards and beliefs and theirs if we were to coexist, even mate, with the aliens. Apparently, Terrans were savages, not yet fully evolved. They lacked not only social skills but common decency. We’d need to train them. Quickly.
“It’s clear you have never learned how to properly address beings from another world upon first contact. You belong to us now. Therefore you—and the other whores your leader gave us—will address me and every Arythian male you see as Master,” I replied sternly.
Her eyes flashed. “Fuck you! I’m not a whore, and I don’t belong to anybody.”
I snapped. Did the first thing that came into my mind. If she was going to act like an uncivilized being, I needed to treat her as one. I waved a hand, disengaging the force field momentarily, and flipped her onto her stomach. Then I brought my palm down on the pale-white cheeks of her ass. Hard.
She let out a shriek that echoed through the holding bay.
“You monster! Let me go!”
I smacked her again. “You will address me as Master, not monster.”
She began struggling, but the field rendered her immobile, which only increased her rage.
“Like hell I will! I didn’t endure six weeks of prison to end up as some alien’s whore!” She finished with a string of words I had no translation for. I assumed they were not complimentary.
“Silence!” I gave her two more harsh whacks, which blessedly took her breath away. “Your screeching is unpleasant to the ear. You will use a softer tone of voice when you speak.”
She let loose with another tirade, but I barely registered it. My attention was fixed on her backside. Specifically the twin mounds of her ass.
The pasty-white flesh bore a perfect imprint of my hand—in a rosy shade of pink. Intrigued, I smacked her again, a little lower this time.
Sure enough, her skin responded immediately, turning a deeper shade of red where my handprints overlapped.
My cock sprang to attention. I wondered what other colors she’d exhibit—and where. Unlike the others, she showed a spark of fire, which bode well for producing offspring capable of becoming mighty warriors. Training this wild savage would present a challenge, one I welcomed. I needed something to occupy the long empty hours when I wasn’t on duty. Hours spent in grief and regret. The alien would never be as good a mate as an Arythian female, but I no longer had that choice. If I had to impregnate her, I could at least train her to obey, teach her how to properly please me.
“I’ll take this one,” I announced. “Have her washed and sent to my quarters.”
The crewman’s eyes were glued to her glowing bottom. “Shall I put her clothes back on after washing her?”
“No. I want her naked.”
Apparently, the device translating my words to her language was working just fine. I strode out of the room, with a barrage of brand new curses ringing in my ears.
Chapter Three
Trina
I’d escaped one nightmare only to awaken to a far worse one. At least my last imprisonment had been on Earth where a hope of escape existed. But my rescue had been as big a sham as our chancellor’s marriage. Vector Six? Solport? I searched my brain for a clue to what all the terms he’d thrown at me meant, but my history and sociology degree and admin job offered me little information beyond the basics.
And the room they’d ushered me into after leaving the mansion was anything but a rocket ship. They’d handed me over to a bunch of pale-skinned men in white jackets who had, in turn, escorted me into another chamber, and, before I knew it…I was here. In a solport in Vector Six—which sounded very far from Earth—naked, bottom stinging, and about to be washed and taken to someone’s chamber.
Sounded a lot like an old movie I watched once, where the girl was kidnapped by a desert tribe and presented to their sheik as a gift, tribute…a sex slave. Holy shit. That was exactly what was going on here, wasn’t it?
I backed away from the tech-type guy—they were the same everywhere, apparently—thin, pale, and squinty eyes from too much tech-type activity—waving my hands. My curses had fallen on deaf ears, so I tried a new tack.
“So, there’s clearly a mistake here. I was supposed to be on a diplomatic mission.” All around me lay other women, in a state of unconsciousness like I must have just been in. “And I’m not sure about the rest of them, but I would like to be shown to my quarters and given access to communications so I can contact Earth and get this straightened out.” Calm…sound calm and maybe they’d believe it. But my stomach churned and my head whirled.
The tech merely cl
icked a device in my direction, and I sank to the floor, still naked, still stinging, and now adding a level of humiliation I’d never thought to experience. He bent and scooped me up then laid me back on the empty table before reaching up and hauling down some sort of hose. The bastard was humming under his breath, and if I’d had any ability to use my arms, legs, or even my mouth, I’d have taken action. But instead, I just lay there while he moved the nozzle over my naked, vulnerable body and continued to hum in an eerie series of sharp and flat notes that made my teeth ache.
Finally, he let go of the hose, and it retracted into the ceiling. Still humming, he pushed a series of buttons on the table, and it moved toward the door through which Admiral whatever-his-name-was had disappeared. We traveled down a corridor, dark ahead and behind us but lit where we passed. Energy savings I supposed, and my table, with me wishing I could hold on to something, slid into a square box. When the tech stood next to me again, it moved upward and then came to a smooth stop.
My eyes worked fine, even if I couldn’t turn my head, and I flicked my gaze from right to left to take in as much of the environment as I could. Smooth walls behind which pulsed color, almost like a more subtle version of what a nightclub might have. Even the floors were colorful, changing under us as we moved. What an odd spaceship. Because that was what this was, right? A spaceship…or was a solport something else?
I’d had friends in school who wanted nothing but to fly to the stars, but I’d never been one of those space aficionados. No, I’d been very satisfied to spend my life on planet Earth, and while it hadn’t been much of a life, going from my cubicle at work to my not-much-bigger living unit at home. Spending evenings with friends or alone watching vids and reading… Not exciting. But it was mine, and instead, I’d somehow come to the attention of Chancellor Ravensworth who’d decided to bring me into his games with his wife.
Ravished: A Dark Sci Fi Romance (Centauri Captives Book 2) Page 2
