Aurelian Prisoner
Page 1
Aurelian Prisoner
A Sci Fi Alien Fated Mates Romance
Corin Cain
Contents
Foreword
1. Allie
2. Daccia
3. Allie
4. Hadrian
5. Kitos
6. Allie
7. Kitos
8. Allie
9. Hadrian
10. Allie
11. Hadrian
12. Allie
13. Daccia
14. Allie
15. Daccia
16. Hadrian
17. Allie
18. Kitos
19. Allie
20. Daccia
21. Allie
22. Hadrian
23. Allie
24. Allie
25. Daccia
26. Allie
27. Allie
28. Allie
Foreword
Welcome to the Aurelian Empire, where the dominant, powerful alien warriors come in threes!
This is a steamy reverse harem alien romance, heavy on the action and adventure! It is quite dark and intense at parts. This book does contain darker themes of the effects of human trafficking.
- CC
1
Allie
A thousand greedy eyes are staring at my body, but I ignore them – swaying my hips to the rhythm of the music instead, losing myself in dance.
I know that all around me, humans and Toads alike are leering at my curves – but their whistles and jeers, the vulgar hunger of disgusting men, barely registers to me. I’ve shut them out, just as I’d learned to do a long time ago.
But I can’t shut everybody out – and for all the countless faces I ignore, three remain painfully sharp in my awareness.
The faces belong to a triad of haughty, Rogue Aurelians – towering alien warriors who apparently aren’t too proud and haughty to patronize the likes of Spur’s joint tonight.
Those three imposing creatures have my full attention. I couldn’t shut them out even if I tried. They’re not the first Aurelians to ever set foot into this place – but every time I see any of their warrior species, I can’t shut them out like I can the rest of the men.
Ha! With humans and Toads, it’s nothing. The men of those races are like insects, and I can ignore their jeers like the buzzing of flies.
But those Aurelians? I can’t shut them out – partly because of just how imposing they are, but also because I know I have to watch out for them.
Their towering species is famous for traveling in trios – every Aurelian warrior is part of a triad of huge, hulking beasts of men. What makes the Aurelians who frequent Spur’s different to the norm is that they’re all Rogue – exiles or deserters from the Aurelian Empire, and no longer bound to the rules of that tightly ordered society. Aurelians from the Empire wouldn’t come to this planet – not since the human government had declared independence from the Aurelian Empire, and rejected the ‘protection’ they offered.
Rogue Aurelians will still come here, though – and for the same reason the Aurelian Empire once colonized this planet:
Women.
Aurelians are an all-male species, with an infamous appetite for sex. The warriors of the Aurelian Empire are famous for scouring the universe for attractive human females, who they invite to join their huge harems. That’s disgusting enough – but Rogue Aurelians are famous for taking that a step further.
Rather than inviting women to join their harems, or accepting any of the countless human females who volunteer, Rogue Aurelians have no compunction about snatching up attractive women and taking them into their harems whether they want to be part of them or not.
They own these woman - mating brutally with them, one after the next, relentlessly searching for what all Aurelian warriors seek – Empire or Rogue: Their ‘Fated Mate’.
I speak from experience. I was once forced to spend three weeks in an Aurelian harem. I can still feel the crack of their hands on my bare bottom as they disciplined me unmercifully, and my body still trembles from the force of their violent mating as they took me – using me hard, over and over again.
The passion of the Aurelians who ‘owned’ me was unparalleled, and their beastly strength still makes me quiver in ways I can only begin to comprehend.
And that’s the worst part – or the best part. Whatever you objectively think of Aurelians – Rogue or otherwise – it’s not so easy to remain dispassionate when you’re standing before one…
…or kneeling in front of one…
…or crushed beneath the brutal, violent thrusts of one.
Objectively, Aurelians seem brutal, haughty and misogynistic. Subjectively – when you’re with one of those marble-skinned Gods – you can’t help but let your body give in to the trembling, shivering need for them. You can’t help but admire the tradition of honor that is intrinsic to their society, and the sense of duty they have in protecting the human species they view as so child-like and helpless.
It’s infuriating, yet honorable. Frustrating, yet laudable. The best and worst of both worlds; and both repellent and compelling to human females like me.
In the old days of the Aurelian Empire – and in traditions still practiced by some Rogue Aurelians – human women were owned and traded as slaves. In more modern times, it’s apparent that many women don’t need chains, or collars – or even the threat of discipline – to be obedient to these brutal aliens.
The dominant nature and powerful sexuality of Aurelians is enough to turn most human females into willing, obedient little sluts for them.
But not all women. Not me. Three weeks was all I spent in that Aurelian harem before I made my escape. I am many things – but willing and obedient aren’t two of them.
Yet, even after all this time, I still regret what I had to do to them: To the three Aurelians who ‘owned’ me. They were noble, passionate men. They didn’t deserve what happened to them. I feel shame – and for that reason, I stay as far away from Aurelians as possible now.
Besides, the risk of being around Aurelian warriors is astronomical.
Humans and Toads? They’re just disgusting men – I can handle them. In fact, after a while, they all blend together. Handsome or ugly, rich or poor, they’re all the same. They’re so easy to manipulate – and I should know. It’s how I make my living.
It’s why I’m dancing tonight at Spur’s joint. I know that both humans and Toads are equally eager to watch women baring themselves on stage – so why not take advantage of that?
In fact, I do so right at that moment – bending forward, jiggling my tits, and receiving a reward in the form of the hundred credit bill slipped down my bra. It’s a human who is being so generous – and the man’s fat fingers graze my skin as he shoves the money between my breasts. I force myself not to cringe as I smile down at him, wondering how much more he’ll be good for tonight.
Yes, humans and Toads don’t worry me. In fact, even Rogue Aurelians I could handle, in theory. They’re dangerous, but in a whole different way to the reason I avoid others of their kind.
But Rogue or not, I’ve taught myself to steer clear of any Aurelians – knowing that any one of the triads I encounter, even the ones that having seemingly gone Rogue, could in fact be undercover Aurelian Law Enforcement. I know the law officers of the Aurelian Empire are out to find me – to pick me up from the far reaches of the known universe and bring to back into their fold; to face the punishment they feel I’ve earned.
That’s why I’ve got to steer clear of any of the towering, seven-feet-tall, marble-skinned aliens; no matter how physically alluring they are, or how deeply their pockets might be lined with cash.
It’s also why I can’t shut out everything around me like I normally do
– not with a Rogue Aurelian triad in Spur’s tonight.
At the back of the crowd the three of them sit – a trio of huge, hulking examples of marble-hued, masculine perfection. The three of them are clean-cut, with strong jaws and piercing slate-grey eyes that look right through me.
I hope the looks they’re giving are merely stares of lust – and not preparation to grab me, haul me off stage, and strap me in chains. I hope the three of them truly are Rogue, and not here to force me back to their home world of Colossus to face their approximation of ‘justice.’
I’d take kidnapping and enslavement by Rogue Aurelians over that. Hell, I’ve already spent time in an Aurelian harem. I know from experience that I’d much prefer the chains of their pleasure rooms to the confines of a maximum-security prison cell.
The song reaches a crescendo, and the music snaps me out of my trance and back to the moment.
As the song ramps up, I rip the flimsy top from my body – exposing my tits to the entire crowd of horny, leering men. They clap and jeer, humans and Toads alike, but the lewd comments just bounce off me. I give the crowd a well-practiced smile and then submit to perhaps the most humiliating part of my job – even more so than shoving my tits into the faces of horny strangers.
I have to drop to my hands and knees and crawl across the stage, collecting discarded notes as I go. The path I’ve chosen, across the stage littered with cash, is toward a gentleman in a fitted business suit standing at the edge of the stage. He’s waving a grubby stack of bills at me – big enough for me to surrender my dignity and get on my knees for him.
The man grins, wolf-like, as he sees me approach.
“You could earn a lot more by coming back to my place, honey.”
His words are barely audible over the pounding music, but I know what he’s saying even if I don’t register the exact words. I see the lust in his eyes – and I know he’s repeating an offer I’ve been made countless times before.
Nevertheless, I crawl forward – even as the shame burns at me. I push the feeling back, deep down inside, along with all my other useless emotions. Instead, I force myself to smile at the leering stranger, and he shakes his head as I approach.
“You want this?” He offers up the stack of money, shaking it like a doggy treat. “Then take it with your mouth.” He laughs, and the two men standing beside him chuckle at his cruelty, too.
The businessman is waving four-hundred credits in my face. That’s a lot of money – certainly enough to temporarily buy my dignity. After all, where else would I be able to get that kind of cash?
I mean, there’s not a single legit place on this planet that will hire you if you don’t have ID, and I sure as hell can’t use my real one. Four-hundred credits will pay my rent…
…or, at least, it would do – if this fucking place actually let me keep what I earned.
The problem is that Spur’s joint has cameras watching every corner of the whole place. Spur, the owner, never misses anything – and not only will that mean he’ll want his cut of this man’s dirty money, but if he sees me turn down four-hundred credits, he’ll punish me by not letting me dance any more.
So, I do what I have to do…
I open my mouth, and fight back tears as I crawl up to this leering stranger. He presses the wad of bills past my lips. His thumb invades my mouth as he does so, pressing against my tongue. I fight back the urge to gag as I close my lips around the filthy credits. Then I wink at him – and I’m a good enough actress to make him thinks I like it. Then, I finally pull away.
The announcer comes on as I crawl away, the dying beats of the song playing accompaniment to my despair. The announcer roars into the mic: “Give it up for Scarlet!”
The crowd cheers and jeers for me, and my cheeks burn.
They burn scarlet, just like my name.
Well, it’s not my name. Spur just thought Scarlet sounded sluttier than Allie.
I have to agree with him.
That’s what they want me to be out here. A slut. An object. A possession.
I crawl to my feet, and the cheers make me feel so fucking small as I saunter off the stage, my hips swaying as I negotiate the stage in my five-inch heels. Even with my back turned, I can still feel the eyes of the disgusting humans and Toads staring at my ass. It’s the Toads that make me shudder the most. They’re the worst of the whole lot – physically repellent, and morally repellent too. Most humans have a shred of empathy. Every one of those Toads is a scumbag.
I finally get backstage and share a rare, genuine smile with Steffi. She’s my only friend amid the sea of catty – well, I hate to use the word, but bitches – who compete violently and aggressively for the meager scraps of money we’re handed in return for shaking our asses on that stage.
Steffi gives me a long-suffering smile back as I spit the bills the stack out of my mouth and into my hand. “They’re fucking animals, right?”
I laugh bitterly. “The Toads, the Aurelians, or the humans?”
She wrinkles her nose. “The men.”
She’s right, of course. At the heart of it, the species isn’t the problem. Toad, Aurelian or human – the type of men out there are all the same.
I walk down the hallway and into the back room to take off my make-up, knowing I’ll have to pass by Obbit on the way. I cringe at the thought.
Obbit is a Toad – and short for one of their warty species. Barely six feet of bulky muscle and fat, he’s almost as wide as he is tall, although that’s still plenty big enough to manage the girls at Spur’s joint, and run security for the club. As I approach, I see Jenny – one of the other girls – scurrying away from his office, wiping her mouth as she passes.
I shudder. I know exactly what that poor girl’s wiping from her lips – and the very thought of it makes me want to throw up. No matter how bad things get, I swear to myself that I’ll never stoop that low.
As I approach, I see Obbit rearranging his short loin-cloth – tucking his slimy, warty cock back inside. I cringe. It’s probably still wet with Jenny’s saliva.
Just the sight of Obbit is enough to make me feel queasy. The disgusting Toad chooses to only wear a thin slip of fabric – one that barely hides his genitals – as if he’s proud of his five-hundred-pound, slimy body. He also likes his jewelry – and Obbit’s wristwatch is currently projecting a live hologram of the stage, so he can keep an eagle-eyed watch on us to make sure we’re producing for the club.
I feel the bile rise in my throat. Obbit was probably watching that feed live, even while Jenny was on her knees pleasuring the disgusting creature with her talented mouth…
A few minutes earlier? I was the only one on stage. That means Obbit was watching me while Jenny’s lips and tongues coaxed him to spurt into her mouth. My stomach roiled at the thought. I feel defiled knowing that… It makes me want to vomit.
As I approach, Obbit looks up – cutting the feed from his watch.
“You really cleaned up in there, baby,” he gurgles, those thick lips of his wobbling as he speaks. “I saw the way those businessmen were staring at you.”
Which “businessmen”? From the Rogue Aurelians to the man who’d shoved that money between my teeth, there were all sorts of men who frequented a place like Spur’s and described themselves as “businessmen” – even though I doubted any of their “business” was legitimate.
I shudder again. I fucking hate Toads – although if Obbit was a human, I’d probably hate him just as much. Right now, the disgusting creature is sitting on his moist, high stool – one designed to keep his huge, warty ass wet while he watches over the girls like they are livestock.
Obbit stretches out one of his huge, webbed hands eagerly. I reluctantly drop every credit I just worked my ass off for – literally - into his slimy palm. I’ve learned from bitter experience not to hesitate – and definitely not to hold back any of my earnings. Obbit might look fat and slow, but he can move like lightening when he wants to; and I don’t want to give him any excuse to snatch at
me and grab me in his strong grip.
The sick thing is that the customers think we keep the tips. In reality, they all go to Spur. One of the perks of hiring women with no other options is being able to fuck them over – or just fuck them.
I try to pull my hand back, out of Obbit’s reach, before he gets any similar ideas – but I’m just not fast enough.
“Not so fast, dear,” the Toad warbles, as his warty, wet hand tightly grabs my wrist. He pulls me towards him – towards his slick, warty body. As a Toad, Obbit is far stronger than any human – but I know he wants the same thing as those leering men outside.
His beady eyes stare at my lips, and I see his loincloth start tenting out again already.
“You know,” the disgusting creature warbles, “you could keep a hundred credits or so, if you knew what was good for you.” He winks suggestively. “Maybe you should be more like Jenny.”
Jenny, like many of the other desperate women who work at Spur’s, has done unspeakable things to sate the desires of this slimy monster. She’s debased herself to keep just some of her hard-earned tips…
But – as I said – I won’t ever stoop that low.
I purse my lips and don’t respond, just letting my hand hang limply in his slimy grip. I know anything I say will be used against me – so I keep my eyes down and wait, instead.
Finally, Obbit releases my wrist, frustrated at my lack of reaction. I know it makes looks me weak, but I’ve learned from bitter experience that you need to pick your battles. Making eye contact with a Toad who wants something from you is a bad idea – and I’m not prepared to put up a fight right now. Fortunately, he relents – and hands me the meager thirty credits that comprise my ‘wage’.