by Lynnea Lee
“I dabble everywhere.”
“Who is your lovely companion.” It was Neyala. “A human...she’s new.”
“This is Scarlet.” Vore hadn’t used her full name since the day at the wedding. “I acquired her recently.” Vore turned to Ulrek. “I believe she was in the last batch of slaves you brought in with the Stellar Fortune. The batch that got away.”
Lettie tensed. Was Vore rubbing salt in Ulrek’s wounds? This couldn’t be a good idea.
“I see the Defiant kept a few of the females on board. I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“That was not so long ago; she must be quite new to you,” Neyala stated.
“She is. I know I should be training her, but you know me, I’m not much for rules. And this applies to anything I own.”
“I know of a few merchants in the Dominion who have grown completely obsessed with their human females. If the slaves were Tallean, one would suspect a mating bond.” Jotah eyed Lettie. Her initial reaction was to shrink back, but she forced herself to stay still.
A male at the back piped up. “I heard of Talleans forming mating bonds with humans. I know we can’t bond with the Fietes.”
At the man’s feet, a Fiete woman sat cross-legged and demure. Lettie had seen a few Fietes on Reka 5. They were humanoid, almost elf-like, and most were usually very soft-spoken and timid. But the ones living on Reka 5 were already considered the most independent and intelligent of their entire race. Most never even tried to escape, even if their situation was dire.
“Possibly. I believe I know one of the merchants you speak of. Last I heard, Gallus was looking for a way to produce offspring with his human. Luckily, Tallean and humans can not produce offspring. You know how the Favored despise mixing genetics.”
Back on Reka 5, Lettie had watched the educational videos the colony provided for their liberated slaves. One video had explained that the Dominion was ruled by a race who called themselves the Favored of the Goddess. They had evolved on the same planet as the Talleans and believed the goddess created the Tallean to serve them. Tallean children were brainwashed young to join the Dominion fleet. So while Talleans did all the dirty work, The Favored reaped the rewards.
Some Talleans who knew how to work the system, such as Jotah, got rich and lived long enough to enjoy their wealth. But most were just another warm body to send into battle.
“I’ve arranged a series of fights for each evening.” Jotah motioned over a server with a tray of drinks. “I got my fighters from the Dominion prisons. There are some tough bastards in the bunch. They were all on death row. For each night’s winner, I’ve offered them not only their lives but also a well-paying job on my personal security team. They have good incentive to fight to the death. Tonight’s fight starts soon in the garden, so get your bets in now.”
A man on the far side of the table broke into a wide grin. “I’ve already made my bets. Those fighters all look like brutes. You got a good batch.”
“They are good fighters.” Jotah picked up a drink and brought it to his lips. “But I must give the credit to Neyala here. She chose our fighters. She loves a good fight.”
Neyala smiled, and her fangs glinted in the light. “I can’t wait.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Vore licked his lips in excitement as the first round began. Jotah had built a fighting cage in the middle of his extensive garden for the event. In the first round, six entered, but only three would leave. There were weapons half-buried in the sand.
Lettie had already found out that he and Arus had trained at the Dominion’s Academy. Not just trained, but they had been top students, rising stars, meant to take on the mantle of Dominion elites. Vore had been an engineer. And while he had loved his specialty—weapons—he had not wanted to spend his life designing weapons for the corrupt government. His past was not something he could control, and Vore was sure Lettie would forgive it.
But she was about to find out more about him that she might not like. This one might not be so easily forgivable. Vore loved violence, and watching fights turned him on. He preferred matches where the losers live to fight another day. But he couldn’t turn off the excitement even when it was a fight to the death. It was morally wrong, and it was one of Vore’s shameful secrets. He was not proud of it and chose to avoid these situations. That was not possible right now.
He reached for Lettie and pulled her up from between his legs to sit on his lap. Next to him, Ulrek had a pretty Fiete slave at his feet, a courtesy Jotah had offered the male. They had front row seats, which Jotah had reserved for former Dominion officers, which meant they would get an unobstructed view of all the gory details of every kill.
“You don’t have to watch this, you can lean on me and close your eyes if you need to,” he whispered in her ear.
“I’ll do that when things get bad.”
Two of the fighters paired up immediately. They looked similar and must be brothers. They must know that only one would survive today’s fights. They tagged teamed one of the smaller opponents, punching and kicking at him repeatedly.
Lettie gasped and instinctively turned her face into his chest. She gasped a second time when she felt his cock harden at the violence. She stared up at him accusingly.
Next to them, the Fiete female by Ulrek’s feet turned her face away from the violence. But the former Dominion captain pulled the Fiete up on his lap, grabbed her by the hair, and forced her to watch the massacre.
“Keep your eyes open, slave.” Ulrek’s voice was menacing and tinged with arousal. Then he opened the front of his pants and forced the Fiete’s hand onto his cock. “Watch and rub. Or else I’ll make you run for me. I love to hunt.”
The scent of slave’s fear filled the air. On Vore’s own lap, Lettie burrowed back into his chest, trying to block out the disturbing scene next to them.
In the cage, one of the brothers held their victim as the second delivered a fatal kick, slicing up his belly. They roared in unison.
On the other side of the cage, another fighter dodged a fist and ran towards the side where the audience sat. The fighter stopped right in front of Vore and started climbing the bars, his eyes on something Vore had not noticed earlier. A blaster was strapped to the roof of the cage. Seeing his opponent get away, the other reached for a small axe, pulled it out of the sand, and threw it. The male climbing in front of him froze, a look of surprise and pain on his face, then fell to the ground on his front, the ax sticking out of his back.
The male who threw the deadly weapon ran in, grabbed the axe, and hacked the downed male to pieces.
“Oh my god,” Lettie choked.
“I told you to lean on me and close your eyes.”
“It’s like a traffic accident. I can’t stop watching.”
Next to him, Ulrek pushed the female onto the ground and forced her head down onto his crotch. The look on the Fiete’s face was one of relief. She preferred serving him sexually over watching the gruesome fight.
Lettie had noticed as well. Vore gave her a nod and slid her down to the floor. He pressed her face onto the covered front of his pants, rubbing her cheek on him through the fabric. Would she be disgusted at the fact that the violence had made him hard? But like the female next to them, all he saw on her face was relief.
Focusing his attention back to the fight, Vore glanced up just in time to see the last fighter, who had run off to the side during the initial violence, sneak up behind the smaller of the brothers, knife in hand. He attacked, slashing the male’s throat. By the time the other brother reacted, it was too late. The klaxon sounded, and the round was over.
Lettie pressed her face against the bulge in his pants, glad to have something else to focus on other than the macabre scene in the cage. Initially, she had been appalled by Vore’s reaction to the fight. How could such horrific atrocities turn him on? But a quick survey of the front row showed that the majority of the Talleans reacted similarly. Lettie remembered his reaction after the fig
hts with the coilbeast and the dragus and concluded that this must be an expression of that same Tallean instinct. It was something he could not control.
“You and I are not too different.” It was Ulrek.
“Maybe not,” Vore grunted in reply.
Lettie scoffed internally. They may have the same base instincts dictated by their evolution, such as the urge to chase and hunt, and the tendency to arousal when witnessing violence, but Vore was heads above the crooked captain. Ulrek fed off the Fiete’s fear, while Vore tried to protect her from the senseless violence.
“How much is the Defiant paying you? Maybe I can make an offer.”
“You can’t offer enough.”
Ulrek only laughed.
The announcer introduced the next round, and Lettie paused to listen. She had meant it when she said she couldn’t look away. Maybe it was morbid curiosity, but despite her disgust, she wanted to know what happened.
“For the next round, we have captured a myriad of beasts and monsters from the outer reaches of civilized space for your entertainment.”
Vore huffed. “Outer reaches? That would be right here.”
“Our contestants will endure wave after wave of hungry, mindless terrors until one of our fighters falls. There is only one rule: the fighters must not attack each other. Let’s watch our brave warriors take on stalkers from Vosthea, coilbeasts from Reka 5—”
Lettie lifted her head. Coilbeast? She looked up at Vore.
“Did you want to watch?” Vore cupped her cheek with his rough hand, and Lettie leaned into it.
“No, I think I should stay down here. I have already witnessed the most exciting fight against a coilbeast. I just remembered how amazing you were.”
Vore’s chest puffed up, and he sat a little straighter.
The second round didn’t last long. With the first brother gone, the second had no will to fight and was torn apart by the monsters quickly. The coilbeast never even made an appearance.
The final round was between the two remaining fighters.
Attempting to distract herself from the fight behind her, she reached to open his pants, but he stopped her.
“Later, female.” But his eyes sparkled with approval.
Lettie closed her eyes, rested her head against Vore’s crotch, and tried to ignore the sounds of the fighting and cheering. Vore kept a hand on her head, comforting her.
A sudden loud cheering alerted her that the fight was over. She turned to see who was victorious and regretted it immediately. Her first sight was that of a mangled body, slashed to bloody ribbons, its innards hanging out. She dry heaved at the sight, and Vore pulled her up to his lap and pressed her face to his body.
The winner was the brute who had hacked apart his opponent with his ax. He gave a loud bellow, and the crowd cheered.
“I told you not to look,” Vore said quietly to Lettie, as the cheering drowned out his voice for everyone else.
The cheering died down, and the guests got up to return to the grand hall. As Vore got up, Jotah and Neyala approached.
“I see you have both enjoyed tonight’s entertainment so far,” Jotah addressed Vore and Ulrek.
“I was looking forward to watching the fight with the coilbeast.” Ulrek pushed the slave away. “Too bad the round ended so quickly. But great fight there at the end.”
“Yes, the winner will make a strong addition to my army.”
Jotah dismissed the Fiete slave before inviting them to join him in his office, where he had planned more entertainment for a select group. Vore accepted graciously.
Lettie walked, holding onto Vore’s arm, glad that the garden had paved paths. Despite being seated for most of the evening, her feet were starting to hurt in the heels. She wasn’t sure she could have navigated a dirt pathway on her own. Once inside, they by-passed the grand hall and turned instead into a smaller room.
Jotah’s office was just as ornate as the grand hall and spacious as well. A collection of priceless oddities and artifacts adorned one wall in a curated, well-lit display. A row of floor to ceiling mirrors lined the opposite wall. There was an oversized desk at the back of the room and two smaller desks in front of it, off to each side. A computer terminal sat on each one. Finally!
There were two giant, low tables in the office, each one ringed with plush armchairs and large puffy cushions. Vore took a seat in an armchair next to one of the smaller desks and pulled an oversized pillow over for Lettie to settle onto between his legs. Servers came around and offered all the guests food and drink.
Lettie was too nervous to eat, but she eyed the mug in front of Vore. She was thirsty but wasn’t sure of the protocols. Was she allowed to drink from his cup? She looked around to see what the other slaves were doing, but it didn’t help. There were only a handful of Fiete females and one other human, and they were all sitting obediently on their cushions.
She gripped Vore’s leg and squeezed lightly to get his attention. He looked at her questioningly but didn’t speak. She eyed the mug. Vore picked it up, brought it to his lips, and took a sip before giving it to her, nodding for her to have a drink. She did. It was bitter but refreshing, nothing like the Rhean spirits they had shared back by the campfire on Reka 5. It tasted almost like an overly brewed, too-strong iced tea, no sugar. She took a second sip before putting it back on the table.
The table was more like a large platform, and Lettie guessed they might be in for some dancing. She was wrong.
The lights dimmed, and music started playing, and what came out were not dancers, unless you considered sex to be a form of dancing. And maybe it was. The performers engaged in all forms of lewd acts on top of their tables as the guests talked with each other. Some would stop in their conversation to watch a change in position or listen to the cries as a female climaxed.
Imagine that a few days ago, Lettie had thought she was brave for considering going to the public baths with Angie. The limited experience she had at Reka 5 did not prepare her for this outing. Sure, she had watched Angie and Holden get it on after they had defeated the coilbeast, but that was nothing compared to this. The sights and sounds of sex bombarded her from every angle. In front of her, a woman who was sandwiched between two muscular Tallean men cried out as she reached her climax. But her cries were muted as another male muffled her cries with his cock.
Lettie bit her lip as heat and arousal suffused her body.
Vore recognized Lettie’s arousal through the thick mix of sex and pheromones in the air. She was highly aroused by the performance in front of her. Perhaps she would like to be sandwiched between him and one other one day. If she wanted, Vore would make it happen.
But right now, he had a job to do. He waited patiently for the other guests to imbibe in more drink and be affected by the performances. Once the mindless fucking started, he would be able to get to the terminal without being noticed. He had a plan, and the best part was that it involved Lettie bent over in front of him.
The servers made another round to fill the mugs with the bitter but refreshing beverage. Vore recognized the herbal infusion. It was an expensive concoction made from a blend of herbs meant to improve the sexual prowess of both sexes. Whether it was truth or rumor, he did not know. He handed the mug to Lettie. She took a healthy gulp then placed the mug back on the table.
Across from them, a Tallean couple was the first to join the performers. The male piled a bunch of cushions together and laid his female on top of it, unwrapping her from her dress like a present. Another male, the same one who had commented that a Tallean could not form a bond with a Fiete, pulled his companion to straddle his lap.
The timing was now. Vore collected the info tab from his pocket into his hand.
“The terminal is right here,” he whispered into Lettie’s ear. “Do you trust me?”
He grazed his fangs along her jaw, putting on a show in case anyone was watching.
“Yes.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Vore leaned in close. “The terminal is right here. Do you trust me?”
Hot breath and sexy fangs brushed against her cheek, making Lettie shudder.
“Yes.” She panted. His action might have been a show, but it still did wonders to her body.
“If it’s too much, whisper ‘amberberry.’ Arus will hear it and let me know.”
He grabbed her hand and pressed it to his crotch. Vore was already half hard. He moved her palms against himself several times, and Lettie felt him strain against the front of his pants.
He stood, pulling her up to her feet, then he spun her around and bent her right over the terminal. As his hands released hers, Lettie realized that he had passed her his info tab. He lifted her skirt and tossed it over her body. The long train covered her upper body and face, along with half of the back of the terminal.
“Watch your hands and hang on tight, little Lettie.”
Something about the way he said the words made her look at her hands. And right there, next to her right hand, was the slot for the info tab, just as Cal had shown her back on the Defiant. With her actions hidden by the long skirt and the onlookers’ attention focused on her backside rather than her front, Lettie lined the info tab with the slot and inserted it. She stared at it, almost expecting an alarm to sound. But nothing happened. The info card was in, and they were in business!
Vore’s warm hand grabbed her ass, giving it a big squeeze. It reminded her to stay in her role. Their mission wasn’t over yet! Then a large palm landed on her lower cheeks with a loud slapping sound. She squealed; Vore hit a lot harder than she had expected. Behind her, Vore laughed.
“Bingo!” Mia’s excited voice came from her communicator. “We are in the system!”
Another loud crack landed hard on her ass, and she squealed again. That stung!
“Good girl.” Vore’s voice was rich and low. He rubbed her ass cheek softly. Lettie felt a hot breath a moment before he clamped his teeth down on her heated bottom. This time Lettie pushed herself back up and struggled, the pain sending panic through her system. That was going to leave a mark.
