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Excerpt: Aurelians go Rogue only because they enjoybreakinga woman. To them, it’s not just about the fucking – it’s about themind-fucking. They get off on making a helpless, terrified woman submit to them; to break her until she embraces her fate as the property of three, brutal warriors. It’s something they enjoy almost as much as sinking their thick cocks inside her and emptying their straining balls.

Power. Dominance. Aurelians are legendary for their obsession with submissive women. Even in the harems of the Aurelian Empire, the warriors are infamous for their desire to spank the women who flock to their estates; turning them into submissive little toys who’ll eagerly serve their every whim.

Rogue Aurelians take that a step further. Their love is for the thrill of breaking a woman in, as if she’s a wild horse – taming her, and stripping the fire and rebellion from her through brutal punishment and relentless, dominant sex.

JAMIE

Our first three rescue missions went smoothly.

This time, they were expecting us.

Ten slaves freed.

Ten tempting pieces of bait.

The moment we’d walked into the trap, we’d been cut off from our escape route.

“We need to get out of here!”

I remember the shock when I realized that scream had emerged from my own mouth – and then been stifled by sheer panic.

Ling, right beside me, didn’t flinch. Ice-cold under pressure, Ling had given me a quick, reassuring touch on my arm and then darted around the corner, sprinting out of sight.

She’d made it ten feet.

I’ll never forget the sound of Ling’s rattling, fluid-filled gasp as I heard it from around the corner.

As the sound burned itself into my memory, I’d also felt it – travelling up and down my spine like icy fingers.

I’d barely dared to follow her around the corner. A thousand gruesome images filled my imagination as I tried to imagine what could possibly have elicited that deathly rattle from my friend.

None of them could have prepared me for the reality.

As I turned the corner, I saw the sight of Ling – and the vision burned itself into my retinas.

She was skewered – pinned like a butterfly on a collector’s rack. Blood drooled down between the blades of my mentor’s shoulders, where six-inches of gleaming carbo-steel protruded from her flesh.

Attached to the other end of that bloody shaft was a towering Bullfrog – looming above Ling like a skyscraper. The alien beast was ten-feet-tall; a bulging, gangly-limbed abomination of swollen muscle coated with gelatinous fat. He held the end of that carbo-steel electro-rod tightly in his slimy, webbed protuberances – keeping Ling skewered at the end of it like a barbecued Womp.

The blade had gone straight through her. The keen, gleaming blade spluttered with electricity; crackling with enough volts to make her lifeless body convulse.

As Ling died on the blade of that crackling, razor-sharp electro-rod, the Bullfrog who’d killed her lifted his bulbous eyes – and stared right over her toward me.

It was like time suddenly stood still.

You might think one Bullfrog is indistinguishable from another – but you’d be wrong. This monster was one I’d remember every detail of for the rest of my life. As my eyes scanned his glistening flab, it was like looking at landmarks on a familiar map.

An old scar had turned calloused and white across the Bullfrog’s powerful shoulder – the contrast unsettling against his glistening, green flesh. I remembered that scar as well as I do the ones on my own body. The Bullfrog had received it from me – when I’d unloaded my firearm into him three times during our first rescue mission.

That had been two years earlier – but, apparently, I’d left as indelible an impression on him as he had on me.

The Bullfrog’s eyes had widened as he recognized me.

His hatred was bottomless.

With a shake of his electro-rod, the Bullfrog un-skewered poor Ling – watching her slide limply to the floor and gurgle out a splatter of her life blood.