by Sabrina Kade
And so, Human Whores became the accepted name for girls like us as a whole.
I’m sure it could be worse.
I turn my head slightly to face the one who asked about the Drakens and absently wonder what her deal is, but I want to also maintain my aloofness in this tiny space. If word gets around I know things – any things – they’d look to me as their leader. And in this world – the last thing I want is to be seen as a Madam. The less we know about each other, the better.
Made it less painful when we’re separated.
“Drakens,” the woman continues. “You hear me? They could be Drakens.”
“I heard you.” I can’t hide my annoyance. Of course, I’ve considered the possibility of being purchased by Drakens. Probably for some gallivant party. Drakens could afford it, but I didn’t want to be part of some alien version of a bachelor party. Drakens – though rich – were not kind.
“Say something,” the girl continues.
“How about shutting the fuck up?”
“I sure hope it’s not Drakens,” another girl mutters – Sloane. Sloane Clark. She’s a few years younger than me and dumb as a brick when it comes to books, but smart enough when it comes to staying alive. Her light blue eyes are in direct contrast to her blood red hair. She’s pretty. Most of us are.
“Drakens are rough,” she adds softly.
“Not good tippers either,” one says hoarsely, laughing. Experience always rings in Arizona’s voice, so much so that a few others join in meekly, but I merely shudder along with Sloane. From across the room, I notice Arizona hasn’t changed much from when I first met her at the training academy. That’s how experienced girls like Arizona were.
They’d come from time to time, between assignments, to teach the new girls a thing or two. She’s pretty enough, especially for working in this business for a decade longer than most of the others, but there’s also something I don’t like about her. Her stupid stage name? Her lackeys, Alaska, Dakota, and Kansas, who go with her on every job? Maybe her reputation around the stars?
Arizona does this. Arizona does that. Arizona never minds when I stick it there. Blah blah blah.
Or maybe it’s that though she’s pushing thirty, she’s a horrible combination of looking young and acting like a bitchy mama hen. She has the most amazing almond colored skin with a perfectly matched eye color. Her body’s tight and toned like a gymnast’s, and though she’s short, she commands everyone’s attention in every room. Rumor is she’s dominated a few aliens herself – an absolute rarity for a Human Whore.
Her lips pull into a smirk when she catches me looking at her, and unfortunately, I glance away too late before she notices. “Like what you see, sweetheart?” she teases, elbowing Dakota.
“No. I’m worried we’re heading to a Draken bachelor party,” I say, doing my best to keep my composure.
“Why?” Arizona smirks, lowering her eyes to my chest. “Oh. Yeah. I guess that would be a concern.”
No one joins in Arizona’s laughter this time. They all know what she’s inferring, and she’s not wrong to point it out.
Drakens? Those motherfuckers hate large tits. On the rare occasions I could get one to carry a conversation, I learned they got in the way when they wanted to suck the skin over my heart.
“Hey, at least you all have the latest language transmitters. They didn’t get a chance to update mine after they pulled the last one out,” one sulks. Winter – whatever her last name is, tugs absently at her ear.
“Oh boo-fuckity-who,” York sneers. “Consider yourself lucky you don't know what these creeps are going to say to us.” She pulls her knees up to her chest and looks around the room from her seated position on the floor.
York Albright – I’ve worked with her a few times. She isn’t the prettiest chick in the room, but she is the smartest. Unfortunately, she’s also a smartass who uses sarcasm to mask how afraid she is of anything. She’s only twenty-one with decent dark blond hair and brown eyes, but she’s already seen some of the worst the galaxy has to offer, so her mouth is permanently set in a skeptical frown. I leave her be for the most part.
“Personally, I don’t want to ever hear what these fuckers think about humans in general,” Sloane says, and I can’t argue.
“Seriously,” Alaska says after getting an approving look from Arizona. Her accent from home is still thick on her tongue. “Where are we going? Does anyone know anything?”
“My last owner didn’t say anything,” I say lowly.
“Neither did mine,” says Sloane.
“Use your brains, ladies. Twenty Human Whores?” York says. “Most with language transmitters? Most having worked before? It can’t be good.”
“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” someone chirps up with a smile, and I immediately want to smack it right off her face. She’s young and inexperienced. Easy to see she hasn’t been broken in yet thanks to her styled white-blond hair and sparkling blue eyes. “Personally, I’m kind of excited. Traveling the universe isn’t something everyone can do.”
“You’re fucking diluted, Phoebe,” York sneers. “You’re acting like this is some summer vacation. Don’t you get it? We’re slaves now.”
“Entertainers!” Phoebe chirps, rising to stand. York doesn’t bother to move. Alaska and Arizona smirk, and I barely manage to hide mine. This bitch is fucking clueless. “They said we’d be entertainers. That we’d travel the galaxies! How can you all be so negative about everything?”
“Maybe because I’ve been entertaining for too long,” York says. “Sit before you piss someone off, yeah?”
“But—”
“Sit down, Phoebe,” Arizona snaps.
And so she does.
An uncomfortable silence settles over the room as Phoebe whispers to the girl next to her. Probably some overexcited bullshit about traveling the galaxies. What a newbie. She has no idea what’s about to happen to her.
That’s the thing about some of the new girls. They start out so excited and ready for something new and fresh to do.
Travel the skies!
See the stars!
Send the money back to your families!
Entertain some of the most interesting beings in the galaxy!
What could possibly be wrong with that?
The term entertainer is a joke. We’re not entertainers. We’re whores. Toys. Pets. Slaves. The only things keeping us alive and mostly intact are our rarity and mythical contracts.
Speaking of which…
Purchased is available now
Guarded
Rebels of Sidyth, Book Two
CHAPTER ONE
York
“He’s watching you again.” There’s a hint of laughter in Layla’s voice as she glances towards the gaping hole at the front of The Gathering Room. My current accommodation is not the most welcoming, but considering I’m trapped on a rainy planet full of exiled Sidyths, with nineteen other human entertainers, I guess I don’t have any reason to complain. There’s a place to piss, and there are food and water being brought to us around the clock. And though I don’t like feeling like I’m in a cage for all these aliens to watch us, I’m happy that so far, their eyes are the only thing they’ve had on us.
“York.” Layla’s voice hits an annoying squeak. “Did you hear me? He’s watching you.”
I don’t need to turn around to know who she’s talking about.
It’s been a few days since me, and nineteen other women were dropped off for an assignment thanks to a group of rude aliens and then escorted to a lovelier accommodation Sidyths like to call a Gathering Room, and I’ve noticed one of these intimidating creatures has been keeping an eye on me.
For what, I’m not sure, but it’s not like the enormous alien says anything.
A few days ago, the twenty of us were divided into two groups, and luckily, I was stuck in the larger one. It’s not like I want to talk to everyone and be social, but the more girls there are, the less action I’ll have to see – in theory. It’s
been almost a week, and there’s six girls in the second lair and thirteen including me in the first lair. One of the only women I trust – Blythe – was taken on the first day by the prince of the Sidyths and hasn’t been seen since. None of the others have tried to claim a woman, but that doesn’t mean we’re in the clear. They could be waiting for a holiday of some sort. Who knows. I’m rarely content with a new assignment, and when I do get comfortable, I become bored easily.
I’m growing more comfortable, but I’m not bored. The seven-foot scaled alien watching me is enough to keep me on edge. He’s there almost every day. Standing. Silent. Waiting. Watching.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention almost every time he’s nearby.
Sidyths are not what anyone would consider a fun stop on the Human Whore tour. For one, they’re usually at least six and a half feet tall and pale like a Twilight vampire. They’re also covered in scales on various parts of their face, shoulders, arms, stomachs or legs. I’m pretty sure there’s also scales on their cocks because sometimes my secret admirer’s package slips free from his tiny shorts. Sidyths are also bulky; covered in lean muscle that could easily choke the life out of me if I don’t do what they ask.
The weirdest thing of all? None of them, not even Captain Dick Slip, has asked me to do anything. Or any of us, for that matter.
“You should say something to him.” Ellis pushes a few stray strands of curly hair away from her face so she can fix her intense brown eyes on mine. “Just so he’ll stop staring in here. It’s kind of creepy, you know?”
“Maybe Blythe knows what’s up with him,” Kansas calls in a bored tone. “She seems to have gotten friendly enough with the prince.” She rolls her hazel eyes and shares a smirk with Alaska who doesn’t say anything.
She hardly ever does. Bitch is fucking cranky, and I can’t say I blame her.
It’s obvious Blythe is the only one enjoying her time on a planet filled with exiled Sidyths. We haven’t seen her, but thanks to our translators, it isn’t difficult to figure out how things have progressed. It’s annoying, to say the least, but I can’t get too upset with her. I want to believe she’s part of the reason the rest of the Sidyths have left us alone.
We haven’t been forced to give pleasure, receive pleasure, or do anything odd since arriving.
I’m not used to this amount of freedom. I’m not used to having a choice.
For years, that’s all I wanted. I got tired of people telling me how smart I am, and how I could do anything I wanted with my life.
You have many options, York.
You’re talented, York.
Do you understand how lucky you are, York? Do you understand how much potential you have?
Despite the frightening stranger in the room opening, I’m still not upset about my predicament. Here I am, in a Sidyth lair with a bunch of intergalactic space whores waiting for the specifics of my assignment.
Ellis tries to keep her shit together, but it’s hard when one of the largest Sidyths with bandages on his hands like a boxer seems to be keeping an eye on her. Alaska and Kansas must be used to this shit by now; I’m willing to bet they’d be playing cards if anyone had a deck. The workout twins – Rene and Devyn – seem to think about nothing other than staying fit and healthy, and the rest don’t say much to me. Though I do find it, hilarious Sloane has been dubbed bloody hair woman thanks to her last buyer’s ridiculous choice of hair color.
Most of the girls who sign up to become a Human Whore have obvious financial problems, but that isn’t the case with me. I only wanted something different. I wanted to escape my potential. Yes, I know I sound like a bratty princess, but if the same people who thought that saw me now, they’d laugh in my face. After all, they’d see my secret admirer with bulky arms crossed over a bulkier chest and searing golden yellow eyes that always seem to be watching what up I’m up to.
Then there’s the mask on his face.
I don’t want to think about why he’s wearing that.
The rest of the entertainers continue to openly observe my secret admirer with nervous expressions. It’s been at least a week since Blythe was taken away by the prince and it’s only a matter of time before mask-boy claims me in the exact same way.
The more worrisome question is, what happens when I’m taken?
And why, am I kind of excited to find out?
All my life, I wanted something new and different. I wanted to escape. My parent's friends always told me I was the stupidest smart person they knew, and maybe they were right.
After all, why else would I be hot for the Sidyth with a mask over his mouth who never says anything?
“Still staring,” Ellis smirks towards the doorway.
“Great.” I roll my eyes and try not to focus on the gigantic barbarian watching me. I have no idea what he’s up to, and I can’t decide whether I’m happy or not having him observing me so closely. Was he asked to keep an eye on me or something? “Consider yourself lucky no one’s watching you—” and I stop short, remembering Ellis is being watched.
“I don’t know. He doesn’t seem terrible.”
“Well, good for you,” I snort.
I turn away from my masked secret admirer, not exactly in the mood to be on display. The past few days have been rough and confusing enough. First, being a space whore isn’t the most glamorous occupation in the galaxy, but at least I’ve come to understand the routine. An alien says to spread my legs? I spread. An alien says he wants pleasure? I give it to him. Alien says he wants to give me pleasure (it happens occasionally), and I accept it. There’s something familiar about the system, but right now? There’s nothing familiar here.
There’s twelve of us in this supposed Gathering Room, and Blythe’s with the former prince – or current, prince. I don’t know. The other Sidyths don’t tell us anything, and their voices are low enough that I can’t always pick them up on the translator. There’re six other girls in a second lair with more Sidyths, including Alaska and Kansas’ other half of their posse – Arizona and Dakota. Alaska’s trying to be strong; she’s not used to being separated from her supposed family, but every time Sidyths talk, she’s listening.
Rene and Devyn – who I’ve dubbed the work out twins – don’t say much to anyone but each other. I have a feeling that if we had met before here, they would have laughed at me for being a nerd and jogged back onto the soccer field slapping fives like idiots. I can’t stand either of them, so I let them be, and put on a friendly face when they ask what’s up with my secret admirer.
Hell if I know.
I’m still recovering with the loss of Blythe, the cute bi-racial chick with big tits – who was taken away by Korben – the Sidyth who runs things here on this planet. And though there are mutterings she’s doing okay, and Korben’s Chosen her, I don’t want to believe Blythe has been so simple. Chosen? Sidyths aren’t supposed to Choose Human Whores for mates, but that’s better than hearing she’s dead in a ditch somewhere.
“Maybe he thinks you’re a troublemaker or something,” Sloane chirps, as clueless as ever.
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Alaska calls. “After all, York’s got a reputation just like the rest of us.”
I turn sharply toward Alaska. Now if Rene and Devyn give me nightmares about high school, it’s amazing I can look Alaska in the face at all. She’s everything I hated about high school girls because she’s everything I’m not. Alaska’s tall, slim, tan, and stunning. And while on paper, we may sound like we look alike, this couldn’t be further from the truth. Aliens look at Alaska and go “wow,” and apparently aliens look at me and say—
“Too smart,” Alaska says, filling in my thoughts. “Everyone knows about the few times you tried to escape an assignment, York.” She rolls her stunning blue eyes and flips a few blond waves over her tanned shoulder. The action is annoying because it reminds me of a hair commercial.
“I was bored.” I can’t help snapping back. After all, she’s not wrong. I was bored. My assignmen
t with the Entlas was so good it was a downright yawn festival, so I tried to escape. To see if an Entla had a cruel bone in his hooved body.
The answer? Yes and no. I don’t talk about it if not asked.
“Either way,” Alaska continues, smirking over at Kansas. “You might as well talk to your stalker. Maybe he’ll tell us what the hell’s going on. Blythe betrayed us.”
“We don’t know that.” I don’t want to think about the possibility. Blythe wouldn’t do that. She made a huge speech on the spacecraft here about being sisters and depending on each other. I tried to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal, but her words meant something to me. I liked the idea of having someone I could talk to, and Blythe doesn’t strike me as an idiot.
But then that Sidyth swept her away, and no one’s seen or heard from her since.
“You think Blythe’s okay?” Sloane asks quietly. “The ugly one says she’s fine, but can we trust these guys?”
“I’m sure the prince is making her pleasure him,” Alaska chimes in. “Let’s not pretend spreading for aliens is fine. It’s part of the job.”
I can’t help but smirk. She has a point.
“At least no one’s said she’s dead yet,” Sloane drones on.
“Shut up. They can’t kill us unless they buy out our contracts,” Celeste grumbles.
It’s hard not to smile when I turn and find the Indian looking chick grimacing at Sloane before smirking at me. I remember Celeste. I’ve heard about how cruelly she was treated on some of her assignments, so it’s hard not to feel a little respect for her knowing she hasn’t been broken yet.
I shouldn’t be such a bitch, but I’m smart enough to know it’s a defense mechanism. I cover up my fears with bitchiness. I cover up my insecurities with smartassery, but it’s not like I lack much. My family doesn’t have financial situations like the rest of the girls here. My family’s well off. College was paid for, and I had a horse growing up. On paper, I don’t belong here because I chose to be a space whore, not for the money, but for the chance to find something different.
