by Corin Cain
“Sorry. Sorry,” blurts the startled Toad medic, trying to hide the contemptuous glare he shoots the guard.
The guard opens the door, and I want to scream.
I was never being led to the Toad slaver’s quarters. Instead, they’ve brought me straight to the arena.
Beyond the doorway, the sand of the arena stretches out in front of me. A post in the middle of the looming coliseum stands tall. Fresh blood stains mar the sand, and a body is being dragged from the center of the arena by two Toads guards.
All around us, the crowd roars – and in the center of the arena, a muscled human gladiator roars his victory, brandishing a medieval axe high up in the air. Blood drips from the axe. Another human lays on the sand, twitching as his life blood seeps into the sand. A medic rushes onto the sand and drags the dying warrior out while the winner exults in his victory. He swaggers to the portcullis and exits in triumph, the cheers of the crowd following him.
The arena is now empty. The tall post in the middle of the arena seems as though it’s waiting for me. On the ground near it are three, long swords.
“Go!”
“I’m not going in there!” I snap at the Toad guard, looking desperately for an escape. Maybe I could overpower the Toad guard, even though he’s armed.
But even if I did, there’s still the medic to contend with – and they’ll quickly send more guards to chase me down. Worse, the lives of the other slaves would be forfeit.
Or was that just a ruse, a way for the Toad to control me? I can’t risk it.
The Toad guard pulls his sword from his belt. He repeats: “Go!”
I steel myself, walking into the crowd.
The audience of Toads overhead whistle and cheer as they get their first sight of me. I feel sick to my stomach in front of the disgusting creatures. I wish I could kill them all – wipe the galaxy clean of the bastards.
I’m forced to walk towards the center of the arena, cheered on in all directions by the voices of the countless Toads who comprise the baying audience. The tall wooden pole in the center of the arena has ropes hanging from it. My hand twitches as I look at the swords on the ground. They’re long and thin, designed to slip between chinks in armor.
Even now, thoughts of escape fill me mind – but I realize even these nearby weapons couldn’t change my odds. The swords look so heavy, I’m not sure if I could lift one – much less swing it at the Toad guard goading me towards the center of the arena.
And even if I could escape, there’d still be the horrifying shard of Orb metal around my neck – that the slaver can use to inflict terrible pain on me with just a thought.
“Stand up to it!”
We’ve reached the towering pole in the center of the arena.
I hold my head up high, facing the crowds as the sun beats down on my brow. The Toad guard brushes his slimy hands against me as he ties me to the post, trying to get as much of a grope in as possible while still looking as though he’s just doing his job.
Then he leaves, and I’m alone – tied to the pole, and facing the huge iron portcullis that serves as the gladiatorial entrance to the arena.
I hear a roar from behind it – a scream that penetrates my spine with a shiver of panic.
It’s the roar of the Scorp Queen. She’s angry, and she wants to kill.
7
Baldur
My chest still burns with pain from my healed wounds, but that’s the least of my concerns.
As we’re led towards the arena, I realize that the Toad slaver lied to us.
We have no weapons or armor.
And yet we are still about to face a Scorp Queen in the arena.
I lead the way down the hall. There are three Toad guards behind us, keeping as much distance from us as they possibly can, while still being able to claim they’re doing their job by herding us towards the arena.
As we approach the arena, I hear the crowd screaming and yelling, and their energy fills me. I hate every one of the spectators, but their rage and calls for violence ignite my own anger.
Two twin balls of anger and frustration follow behind me. Raegan limps noticeably his leg still healing, but his spine is straight. Karan is implacable – but fury rages beneath his steely expression.
Together, we pass the wooden door in the hall, and I slow my walk as we pass it, looking at the door longingly. We could easily kill the three guards right now, and break the door down to make our escape.
“We will not leave without Jasmine,” telepaths Raegan.
I nod. “Never.”
We’re all on the same page. Jasmine will be watching from up high, safe from the battle until we’ve dispatched the Scorp Queen…
…if we dispatch the Scorp Queen.
Fear clouds my mind for only an instant, before I push the defeatist thoughts away. I have to be strong right now. This will be the battle of my life.
We turn the corner, and the iron portcullis stands before us. I stop in my tracks.
In the middle of the arena is a huge pole. Attached to it is a woman in a thin dress – so thin I can see every curve of her body through it. I know instantly it’s Jasmine.
“She’s there!”
I rush forward, grabbing the portcullis gates and trying to pull them up.
“Open them!” I yell to the Toad Guards, who back away from me, terrified.
Next to the pole are three swords. They look like ancient technology – not even Orb-blades.
We struggle with the portcullis, but it’s too heavy even for us. We can’t do anything except press ourselves against the iron bars and watch through them as the Toad slaver stands in his throne and addresses his audience of baying, hollering Toads and noblemen.
“Welcome, to the main event!” He bellows. Even from this far, I can see the spittle flying from the slaver’s disgusting mouth. I ache to rip his throat out and watch him bleed out at my feet.
“I will kill him,” I think – the violence of my thought accompanied by graphic mental images of what I’d want to do him during that process.
“We have a special guest today,” the Toad slaver announces, oblivious to my thoughts. “A guest of honor! Lord Crabnog is here to watch the brutality of the Scorp Queen, and the Aurelians who face her. It’ll be a match and a battle that has never been seen before!”
A Toad nobleman in a green and purple costume stands up, holding his scepter aloft. The crowd roars.
So, this is the Toad that wants to buy us. Perhaps I’ll kill him, too.
I grab the nearest Toad guard by the throat. He drops his weapon, and the other two fall back from us in terror.
“Open this fucking gate,” I growl, pure rage in my voice. The Toad shakes his head, jowls jiggling, full of fear.
“I can’t! Sorry, master, can’t! It’s him! He can!” He points a shaky, clawed finger towards the Toad slave master, sitting up on his throne. I drop the useless guard in disgust.
Then I see the Scorp Queen, in the gateway opposite us, across the sand of the arena. The beast roars and rattles against the portcullis.
Jasmine is halfway between that iron portcullis, and the one we’re trapped behind. She’s exactly halfway between us and it.
“We’ll have to move quick,” I vocalize, and my two blood brothers nod. We might not be brothers by genetics, but after all the violence and close calls we’ve endured together, we’ve grown closer than any human siblings ever could.
“I bless this battle!” The Toad nobleman raises his scepter, and waves it to the crowd. As they holler and cheer in response, the portcullis in front of us slowly creaks upward.
I slip under it, rolling across the sand and scrambling desperately to my feet on the other side. Immediately, I start running forward, with Karan by my side. Behind us, Raegan limps and hops as best he can.
The portcullis is opening in front of the Scorp Queen, too – but fortunately the beast is too huge to escape until the gates are fully open.
I race with Karan to the post. Jasmine’s
eyes are wide in terror, her hands firmly secured to the post by thick chains. I grab them, trying to break them apart with my hands.
“No! Forget me! Get the swords!”
I can’t believe Jasmine makes so brave a choice in a split-second, despite the horror of what could happen to her if she remains chained to the post. She is so brave – and I growl in heated desire for her, letting go of the chains and grabbing one of the long, rapier-thin weapons on the ground instead.
I heft the other one, tossing it to Raegan. He grabs the hilt while Karan feels the weight and balance of the third sword.
“We could break Jasmine’s chains with one of these, but it would take ten or fifteen minutes,” Baldur growls, examining the weapon. “It would dull the blade, too. Make this thing useless.”
Jasmine shakes her head furiously. “No! You need it. Use me to distract the Scorp Queen, instead.” I can feel the barely-controlled terror in her voice, and it mirrors the fear my triad is experiencing. Like us, though, she is facing it bravely – and to honor that, we will as well.
I indulge myself for a moment and study Jasmine as she hangs there by the chains. Every curve of her body is visible beneath the sheer gossamer material of her robe. I ache to touch her – to ravish her – even though I hate the idea of this crowd of Toad bastards watching as I do so. I breathe in, and even from here, her scent drives me wild. I bare my teeth – the animal urge to take her almost overwhelming my own survival instincts, with blood surging to my cock.
Jasmine gasps – looking down at my stiffening member as I stand there, as if she can’t believe what she’s seeing.
“Kill that fucking Scorp first!” Jasmine’s frustration snaps me back to the moment.
Kill the Queen. Mate with Jasmine. Then, when we walk down that hallway, we’ll have her safe and secure. That’s when we’ll break out. Think not of her beautiful body and her intoxicating scent. Think of the battle and the blood, first.
I turn from her and tense my muscles, striding with Karan and Raegan away from the middle of the arena where Jasmine is tied. We don’t have the time to break her free, not yet.
We have to kill the beast first.
Across the arena from us, the portcullis holding our enemy back finally opens completely. I’m awed by the sheer size of the Scorp Queen as she scuttles out of the confines of the hallway and rears to her full height. She stomps her massive feet. The vibration pulses through me, and I force myself to bury my fear, finding the clearness of battle readiness.
Then the Queen gets down on all fours, scuttling forward slowly, while her pincers wave hypnotically in the air. The Queen has two huge back legs, plus two smaller front legs for balance – which means, unlike the Scorp Warriors who serve her, she can run easily on all fours while still having her devastating claws ready to slash, and snap, and kill.
I scan my enemy for any sign of weakness. The Scorp Queen’s tail is long and deadly, the barb-tip testing the air, dripping with green poison. The Queen’s huge claws snap in the air, clacking together with enough force to rip me in half at the waist. She steps forward towards us, her hackles up, and that’s when I see her weakness.
There’s a chink in her armor, near the back of her neck. Perhaps an Aurelian died wounding her, breaking her armor with his final blow. With his death, he’s given us a chance at life.
“She’s slow. We beat her with speed. We harry her, wear her down, until one of us can administer the killing blow.”
I send an image of one of us mounting the back of the beast, holding on desperately as she writhes and tries to shake us off. I imagine the blade of one of our swords, driving down through the old wound, between the plates of her scaly armor.
I heft my sword, wishing I had my Orb-Blade.
Live, or die.
8
Raegan
My leg burns in pain. Despite the ministrations of the Toad medic, the wound is still fresh and agonizing – but I push back the pain. There’s no time for agony right now.
I glance sideways at Jasmine, even as I chastise myself for doing so. If I allow her luscious body to distract me for even a moment, I’ll be dead. Yet her nipples are hard and desperate under her gossamer robe, her lips wide as she pants in fear and desperation. I can’t help myself. Despite our desperate situation, the thought of ravishing her under this beating sun makes my heart beat faster.
After. Only after.
Ahead of us, the Scorp Queen picks up speed, racing towards us at a charge. Karan and Baldur are to my right. I keep my distance from them, hefting my blade. If the Scorp Queen charges me, I’m dead – I have no speed to dodge her claws. My only hope is that she goes for Karan and Baldur instead, who are standing closer together to try to draw her attention for precisely that reason.
The closer the beast gets the bigger she looks. I move slowly to the side as Karan and Baldur meet her charge. As she tackles them, I dive towards the beast’s flanks, pushing with my one good leg and awkwardly landing a blow that glances right off the armor of the Scorp Queen.
In front of us, Karan dives to the side, the clink of his steel sword against her scaly armor echoing across the arena; louder even than the screams and jeers of the Toad spectators.
Baldur, in a surge of bravery, dives beneath the Scorp Queen – braving the four, clawed legs and driving his blade upwards into her unprotected belly.
His is the only blade to be painted red with Scorp blood. The crowd screams out, filling me with their primal roars.
The Scorp Queen screams in rage and pain, turning to fight us. I feel the fresh pain from Karan, who’s bleeding from his neck. I look for the tell-tale color of the green poison that means he’s already dead, and feel a surge of relief when I can’t see any sign of it.
“We’re all alive,” voices Baldur in my mind.
The Scorp Queen turns, its beady red eyes staring straight at me.
“For now.”
It tried a charge and failed. Now she tests the air, clacking her pincer claws.
“Watch the barb!” Jasmine screams.
The barbed tail shoots forward. The claws were just a distraction. The green, poison-filled barb darts unerringly towards my heart.
I have only a brief instant to act. I bring my sword up, swinging in a ferocious arc. I know I can’t dodge the barb with my wounded leg, but just maybe...
Yes!
My blade severs the stinger – and, as if in slow motion, the barbed tip flies past my head, landing in a heap in the sand.
The Scorp Queen screams, flailing it’s bloody tail stump, and Karan and Baldur flank her.
She turns, sweeping her claws at Baldur with a crushing blow.
Baldur crumples under the impact, and his mind blinks out.
Horror fills me as his aura disappears. The Scorp Queen stands above Baldur’s body, blood dripping from her claws – but before she can administer another blow, Karan scales the back of the huge monster.
Screeching, the Scorp Queen rears up on two legs, trying to fight him off. Karan struggles to hold onto her huge scales, flung left and right in the hurricane of movement. Hanging on desperately, he climbs to her neck and plunges his sword through the chink in her scaly carapace. His strike is powered with rage and grief at the loss of Baldur.
The blade sinks deep, and the Scorp Queen falls to its front legs, crumpling. The red light goes from her eyes.
As the Queen falls, I limp to Baldur – hobbling on my bad leg, blood dripping from new wounds I didn’t know I had. Karan is equally wounded as he slides from the back of the slaughtered Scorp Queen, and we’re both panting as we kneel at Baldur’s side.
I put my hand against his neck. There’s a faint pulse.
Suddenly, Baldur’s eyes shoot wide open. He was knocked out momentarily, but now he’s back. His consciousness returns to my mind, and I grin at him.
Behind us, the Scorp Queen rattles in her death throes. The three of us limp away from her twitching carcass, our wounds as fresh as our victory. Pride fills
us.“We just killed a fucking Scorp Queen – without Orb-blades,” growls Baldur.
“No, I did – you were asleep,” laughs Karan – but I feel the edge in his voice. The three of us all know how close we came to dying. How close we came to being unable to defend one of our empire’s subjects.
Jasmine’s more than just a subject though, isn’t she? She tantalizes each of us in a way we don’t understand. When before you saw weakness in humanity, in her you see strength.
9
Jasmine
I gasp in relief as the Scorp Queen lies in a switching heap. The violent beast has been put down, her screams never to ring out again.
The three victorious Aurelian gladiators are wounded, blood dripping from cuts and scrapes. They’re naked, heaving and panting from exertion. Sweat sheens on their bodies.
I didn’t know Aurelians could sweat.
I’m still trapped against the pole, shuddering beneath the thin material of my dress, watching the conquering gladiators as they limp victoriously towards me. They throw down their swords on the ground and approach me like a pack of wolves. I’m tied two in feet in the air, my feet on a platform, but even with that added height the Aurelians still tower over me.
The Toad slaver stands before the roaring crowd, and announces: “A valiant fight! And now, watch as the Aurelians take their reward – a human whore!”
The crowd jeers and screams. I’m tied up, the fabric of the dress clinging to my body and igniting my desire in ways I don’t understand. The sun beats down on me and my brow is wet with sweat as I breathe harder and harder – my breasts heaving underneath the thin gossamer of the pleasure slave garb.
The three Aurelians gather before me. Karan growls, his muscles flexing, and his cock stands straight in front of him. It’s too huge, and I remember the drops of the oil that Elanor smuggled to me. I try to tell myself that the oil is the reason I’m slick between my legs – that the heat rising inside me is not my own fault.
