by Nina Croft
I ignored the comment. I was coming back. But first, I was going into space. I was going to find Yolanda Pendleton, stop the slavers, and help save the future of mankind.
“I’ll do it.”
“God, help us all,” Rekowski muttered.
Chapter Two
Killian
“Hey, pretty boy, you looking for your friend?”
I grinned. “Pretty” I was not. Not anymore, anyway, thank Groth. But I winked at her with my good eye. “Yeah, is he still here?”
“Can’t you hear him?” She nodded up the stairs. “He’s been going nonstop all night.”
I followed the rhythmic thumping to a gray curtain. Pushing it aside, I was greeted by the sight of Zak’s blue backside as he thrust vigorously into something hidden by the bulk of his body. Probably a woman, but Zak wasn’t too particular.
There was no point in hurrying him, so I leaned against the wall and listened to the slap of his balls against her ass, the slurp as he pulled out of her, then shoved back in.
The room stank of sweat and sex and mating pheromones, and my dick twitched. Shit, I was getting hard. And sadly, this was the nearest I was getting to sex this layover. While I often shared women with Zak, today I had neither the time nor the money.
However, Groth warriors need sex on a regular basis. Hell, so did I, and I was human. But what I didn’t do was get either explosively violent or manically depressed if I didn’t get laid. And you did not want to share a space the size of the Helldiver with an explosively violent Groth warrior. Though, personally, I preferred that to a manically depressed one.
After dropping Zak off at the nearest brothel shortly after we’d docked, I’d spent the night trying to convince the Guild not to confiscate the Helldiver. Eventually we’d reached a compromise. I do a job for them, which would hopefully clear my debts and get a few very bad people off my back, and they wouldn’t steal my ship. And if I was a good boy, I might even get paid enough to allow me to get laid myself the next time around.
The thrusting was speeding up, the woman letting out little moans. I slipped my hands in my pants and gripped my cock in my fist. Why waste a perfectly good hard-on? I squeezed, imagining a sexy blonde had her hands all over me. And maybe her mouth. I came before Zak did, but then I was pretty fucking desperate, and apparently, Zak had been at it all night. I found a towel and wiped myself clean while I waited for him to finish. Finally, his head went back; he gave a rousing Groth war cry and collapsed.
I gave him thirty seconds. “Hey, Zak, we need to hit the space lanes. Now.”
He grunted.
I persevered. “We’ve got a job. At least, we do if we hit the rendezvous. So slide your dick out of there and get your ass over here. Creb’s prepping the Helldiver for takeoff.”
He rolled over, and I caught a glimpse of the girl. She was some sort of Groth-human hybrid, tall, with long limbs and big breasts. Pretty enough, if you liked your pussy blue. I preferred pink.
“A real job?” Zak rumbled.
“Yeah.”
“With real pay?”
There was no need for him to sound so skeptical. We’d hit a lean patch, but this could be the start of something big…if we managed to get on the right side of the Guild for once. “Maybe. But they have already transferred expenses.” A hefty amount—hopefully there’d be a little left over.
He stood up and stretched, all seven feet of blue muscle. I tried not to feel intimidated by the size of his dick. But man, it was huge.
“So who’s this job for?” he asked, pulling on his pants.
“Don’t know.” It had come down through the Guild, but that meant fuck-all. They worked for anyone as long as the price was right.
“And when’s it going down?”
I shrugged. “Again—not sure.”
He put his hands on his hips. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an irritating fucking prick, Kill?”
I grinned. “Yeah. You. Frequently.”
“And that you need to get fucking laid?”
No disputing that.
He heaved a huge sigh. “What the hell do you know?”
“Guild job. They want some Earth girl rescued from a slaver ship. They’re not sure when, so we need to go monitor the gate, pick them up after they come through.”
Earth was a closed planet. Supposedly. But there’d been a healthy market in human slaves since first contact. Slavery was against the law. Not that it made a lot of difference. I knew better than anyone—I’d been a third-generation slave before I’d broken out, and I had the scars, plus a cybernetic arm and eye, to show for it.
And I hated fucking slavers.
Zak was thinking, not necessarily a good sign. “We don’t have the firepower to take on a slaver. Those fuckers always carry extra blasters.”
He was right. The Helldiver was built for speed rather than confrontation; we were great at running away. “We don’t need to take them on. That’s what the expenses are for—we just go right in there and buy her.”
“A real live Earth slave girl? They’re supposed to be fucking hot.” A blue, forked tongue swiped over his lower lip. “And what do we do with her after we buy her?”
I had no clue, but a few ideas. “We’ll be told once we have her on board.”
“But she’s going to be grateful, right?”
“Oh yeah. Very grateful.” I hoped.
…
Ruby
Oh. My. God.
My eyes shot open. Then snapped closed again.
It had happened. They hadn’t been lying. Or delusional.
I’d been kidnapped by real, honest-to-God aliens.
Spread-eagled on a hard, cold surface, my ankles and wrists strapped to the corners, I couldn’t move, and a scream welled up inside me.
Breathe. Breathe.
I was also totally bare-assed naked.
Don’t panic.
I sucked in air, and a rank, feral smell filled my nostrils, coating my tongue. I almost gagged. Then I’d probably drown in my own vomit. So much for saving Yolanda Pendleton and ensuring the safety of the world. At least I’d been expecting this; I couldn’t begin to imagine what it would be like if I hadn’t been pre-warned.
I peered through my lashes, not wanting to alert my captors that I was awake. There were two of them, and they were actually green, not bright green, but a sort of sludgy khaki green. And they weren’t particularly little, nor could I tell if they were men or not, though they were vaguely humanoid. Two arms, two legs. I read a lot of alien romance books, and to say I was disappointed would be a huge understatement. Not a rippling muscle in sight. In fact, they were downright disgusting. But at least they were covered up, in matching khaki jumpsuits that displayed numerous unexplained bulges.
I can do this. I can do this.
Though clearly whether I could or couldn’t made no difference. There was no backing out now.
At that point, something touched my inner thigh. Every muscle locked up tight, and a squeak escaped my throat.
“She’s awake.”
No kidding.
The voice had sounded human, though deeper and slower.
There was no point in pretending I was asleep anymore, so I opened my eyes and peered down my body. Ugh. There was a goddamned tentacle crawling up my leg. Murky green and knobby, with fingerlike projections sprouting from the end. I bit my lip so hard, the warm metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. For a moment, the thing went still, and the sound of sniffing filled the air. Even more ugh. Then the tentacle was climbing higher. I struggled to close my legs, but I was tied so tight moving was not an option.
My heart was racing now, and I was panting hard. They weren’t going to “damage” me. I had to keep that in mind. At least not permanently. Damn Rekowski for saying that.
Crap.
It had reached the top of my thighs now, brushing over my pubic hair, and I squeezed my eyes shut. The little fingerlike extensions probed through the hair and between the folds of m
y sex, almost gentle. They trailed over my clit, and it felt like little jolts of electric sparks were shooting through me, flooding me with heat. The movement stalled.
One of them made a sound distinctly like a snicker. “This one’s responsive.”
Am not.
Was this embarrassing or what? I wanted to tell him he’d taken me by surprise, but Rekowski had told me to keep quiet about understanding them. He’d installed some sort of translation software directly into my brain, but it was alien in origin and not available on Earth, so I really shouldn’t be able to understand them.
The movement started again, warm and wet, like a whole load of tiny tongues. It was disgusting, really, it was. But tell that to my clit. The perfidious organ was screaming for more.
I tried to think of something horrible. Rekowski. That should do it. But no, if anything, the feelings intensified. My libido had absolutely no taste.
The movements were firmer now, stroking, massaging, and pleasure was swelling in my belly, heavy and hot. Then a pop, like a sneeze, and it was over. The feeling was more relief than pleasure.
That little snigger came again.
Luckily, they didn’t linger there but moved lower, slipping almost gently inside me and stopping immediately.
“Virgin.” The tentacle eased from me, gave my clit one last flick, and was gone.
“Crap. I fancied this one.”
“Well, no touching—you can have the screamer. This one will bring premium. Mark her up.”
I felt a sharp pinch at the top of my thigh, and then the bands holding my arms and legs snapped open. I rolled onto my side but was promptly hauled over a shoulder and carted off like a sack. A door slid open, and another foul smell assaulted my nostrils. Tossed to the floor, I landed on my hip, the air whooshing out of me. My captor bent down, fastened something around my ankle, and then dragged me upright so I was sitting. He snapped a collar around my throat and was gone.
For a minute, I sat, eyes closed, gathering my strength and waiting for the last residual ripples of my orgasm to dissipate before I could face whatever was next.
Finally, I couldn’t put it off any longer. I opened my eyes.
The room was about twenty feet by twenty feet, with curved, gunmetal-gray walls and bars across the open front. Through them was the room I’d just left, with a large table in the center. Empty now.
It soon became clear where the smell was coming from. I was packed in a cell with at least twenty other women all chained in a similar way to me, at the ankle and neck, and I was definitely the cleanest. Some of them were curled in balls; others leaned against the walls, expressions lethargic.
The nearest to me was a skinny, red-haired girl, who appeared about eighteen, though the expression in her eyes made her out to be a lot older. “That looked like fun,” she muttered.
“What?”
She nodded to the bars a few feet in front of us. And the table I’d so recently been strapped to. For a moment I didn’t understand what she was getting at. Then heat washed over me.
Oh my God. Had everyone seen my tentacle-induced orgasm?
“It was horrible,” I said with as much dignity as I could muster.
She snorted. “Yeah, I could see that. I’m Sarah.”
“Ruby.”
She looked me over. “At least you’re not screaming hysterically like the last one.” She waved to the other side of her, where a dark-haired girl was curled into the fetal position, not moving.
I shrugged. “I’m a little numb. I’ll probably start screaming soon.”
“Well, you’ll find plenty to scream at here.”
Chapter Three
Killian
“Just think, a whole fucking room crammed full of tied-up, naked Earth girls. All begging for some alien dick.”
My gaze shifted from the viewer to where Zak sat at my side. His eyes glowed with a blue fire, which didn’t bode well. “You’re a goddamn pervert, you know that?”
He gave me a grin and licked his lips. “Yeah. But I’ve heard most of the girls sign up for these trips—some sort of kink thing.”
I’d heard the same, and if so, they would soon learn their mistake. I’d been a slave, and nobody wanted that shit.
I shook my head but turned my attention back to the monitor, which showed the Bhaxian slaver. She was a beautiful ship, black and sleek, revealing none of the ugly crap that went on inside.
“Have I mentioned lately I hate goddamn slavers,” I muttered as I positioned the Helldiver for docking.
Slavery was the one business I would not get involved in, however good the money. But this was a rescue mission. I was saving a damsel in distress. Not for the first time, I wondered why. Who was she? And who cared enough to get her off that slave ship?
It was none of my business.
“You seem a little tense,” Zak said from beside me. “Maybe I should go talk to them.”
“Hah. I don’t think so. Diplomacy is not your strong point.” This was going to be an easy in-and-out job. We couldn’t afford anything else. That pretty, shiny ship out there was a fully armed Bhaxian star fighter with ten times the firepower of the Helldiver. As it was, this close, if they decided to turn nasty, we would be in big trouble. They could blast us out of space before we could get out of range.
I stabbed a metal finger on the comm unit. “This is the Helldiver, requesting permission to dock.”
I’d already made the initial overtures, which is why we’d been allowed this close. I’d told them I was an agent for one Zakary Mer, Crown Prince of Groth, and that my master had a hankering for an Earth-girl slave, which was all sort of true. I’d also sent ahead a conditional transfer of funds to prove Zak was a serious buyer.
“Permission granted.”
The docking bay doors slid open, and I flew the Helldiver in on manual, setting her down in the first free bay. I unstrapped my harness, stood up, and turned to Zak. “Stay here.”
A guard was waiting for me as I reached the bottom of the ramp. He was an ugly fucker. “Weapons,” he muttered as I stepped off.
I wasn’t happy but doubted I would get any farther if I didn’t comply. I gave him my pistols and the knife from my boot. He shoved them in his pocket, ran a scanner over me, then turned around and headed down into the depths of the ship.
The Guild had sent me an image of a pretty girl with blond curls, blue eyes, and dimples. She looked sweet, too sweet, and I only hoped she had survived the journey so far, or I was unlikely to get the rest of my payment.
And, with a bit of luck, she’d be suitably grateful and not too put off by Zak’s somewhat strange sexual proclivities. We’d all have a bit of fun, and then we’d hand her back to her boyfriend, or her family, or whoever it was who had paid an exorbitant sum to free her.
At last the guard stopped in front of a door and pressed in a code. The door slid open. I tried not to wince as a pungent stench hit me with the power of a blaster. It dragged me back to a time I’d rather forget. I’d grown up with that smell, until it saturated my skin, became part of me. I pressed a finger to the bridge of my nose trying to stop it seeping into my brain.
We stepped into a room, empty but for a table. Seeing the restraints at each corner, I had to fight the urge to slit the guard’s throat. But I wouldn’t last a minute. And they’d destroy the Helldiver and everyone in her. For nothing.
At least if I kept my cool, I’d save one of these women.
The opposite wall was bars. Through them, I could see the girls. They were silent, as though not wanting to bring attention to themselves, or maybe they’d sunk so far into despair they hadn’t noticed us yet. There were about twenty of them, all naked except for collars and chains, a jumble of legs and arms and breasts. And my dick twitched in my pants. Shit. I really shouldn’t find this hot. I’d been on that side of the fence, and there was absolutely nothing sexy about being chained up.
Most of the women were curled up in sleep, and I couldn’t spot my girl. I wasn’t supposed
to bring undue attention to her. It had to appear as though I picked her at random. I was going to have to go in there.
I turned to the guard. “Let me in.”
…
Ruby
The main thing I remembered about my mom was that she’d been a huge Star Wars fan. Consequently, all I’d ever wanted to be growing up was an intergalactic space princess who saved the universe.
And here I was.
But, honestly, space travel wasn’t all it was hyped up to be. At least not when you’re considered cargo and consigned to the hold. There were no window seats. No view of the stars. And definitely no Han Solo.
At first, the other girls and I had chatted, told our stories. We were all orphans, most of us down on our luck. Sarah, the redhead, had been living on the street when she’d been picked up.
I wished I could tell them that there was hope. That somewhere, behind us, Rekowski was ready to swoop in to the rescue. But revealing that hadn’t been part of the mission.
As time passed, the conversation dried up. We’d gotten tired of moaning, I suppose. Instead, we tried to sleep and pretend it was all a bad dream. Right now, I was curled up in a ball, my arms over my head as though I could shut everything out.
The boredom was the worst thing. Or maybe the hunger. We were fed once a day, a slice of bread-like stuff that tasted disgusting, a mixture of spinach, my least favorite vegetable, and moldy fish—and it wasn’t nearly enough. Or maybe the worst thing was the smell. It was a direct result of the bathroom facilities—which consisted of a series of buckets, emptied far too infrequently. I’d murder for a toilet and a shower.
But no, on reflection, none of those were the worst things. That would be the daily visits, when the guards would take a girl into the outer room and rape her. Always the same girl, Maria. There’d been none of that clitoral tickling stuff, which was clearly for assessment purposes only. The first time, she’d screamed. It made no difference, and afterward, they tossed her back with an extra ration of food. Nice guys. But she ate the food. The next time, she stayed silent, and afterward, she curled into a ball and cried quietly, the food uneaten beside her. There was now a little pile growing by her side—no one would touch it.
