Page 35
Story: Sold to the Alien Smugglers
But this towering, gorgeous warrior is wrong. The first chance I have, I’ll escape.
What about Tessa?
A knot of guilt tightens in my gut. I can’t think of her right now – I need to focus on my own survival.
Yet, guilt still gnaws at me. I know I won’t be able to get her out. I’m very far from certain I can getmyselfout.
Even if I achieve the impossible, and manage to give the Aurelians the slip, I’ll still have to make my way through an enormous, hostile ship teeming with Toads and Bullfrogs.
Assuming I do that, I’ve then got to find a way off this ship – and then, where would I even go?
Not to mention, all this has to be accomplished beneath the seemingly omnipresent gaze of the Toad Captain – the one who’d torn a new one into that scarred Bullfrog when he’d threatened to make trouble at the auction.
No, rescuing Tessa is not an option. Even if I knew where Tessa was going to be taken to, there’s nothing I can do to help her.
Buttheycan.
The two Toad guards finally release my arms, hopping back down to their position above the viewing pool ready to take delivery of the next purchased slave.
I shudder at the feel of their slime, still glistening on my skin.
Marcel doesn’t seem to mind. He holds the leash up, calmly waiting for my submission.
When I don’t move fast enough, he murmurs:
“Don’t make me ask again - because I’ll ask with my palm on your ass, not my words.”
As he mutters those words, Marcel licks his lips. Lust flares in his eyes, and I sense that he’s imagining throwing me over his shoulder and slapping my ass until I beg for mercy.
That’s my destiny now. If I dare to ask anything of my new masters, Marcel or one of the others might snap out of the trance they fall into in my presence, and backhand for my insolence.
That’s what I should expect, right? Aurelians are proud. Marcel will expect a submissive slave – and if I don’t play the part sufficiently well, he’ll train me to adopt the role instead.Hard.
Even opening my mouth right now is a great risk.
But if I stay silent, then Tessa loses all hope. She’s going to be hauled off by that evil Bullfrog, to his aquarium somewhere on this ship.
I shudder.
Tessa might not last the night – not in the slimy hands of one of those sadistic creatures.
So, I steel myself. I can endure a brutal slap or a bare-bottom spanking if there’s a chance it might give me a chance to save my friend.
“Please,” I whisper.
Marcel looks at me, curious.
“Please,” I repeat, and then gesture towards Tessa as she kneels at the Bullfrog’s feet. “Please, buy that woman from the Bullfrogs.”
At the same time I whisper that, I step forward and lean my head down submissively – offering myself to the alien leader in a manner I hope he’ll find acceptable.
Apparently so. Marcel clips the leash around my neck.
I yelp as the tensioned collar contracts automatically to fit my slender neck – hugging firmly enough so I’ll always know it’s there, but not so tightly as to constrict my breathing.
I close my eyes as Marcel secures the collar. His fingers brush against my skin and send electric tingles through my body.
I’m not truly at his mercy. I know that with a touch, Marcel could make this leash tighten until I’m choking and gasping. My life is utterly in his huge, white hands.
What about Tessa?
A knot of guilt tightens in my gut. I can’t think of her right now – I need to focus on my own survival.
Yet, guilt still gnaws at me. I know I won’t be able to get her out. I’m very far from certain I can getmyselfout.
Even if I achieve the impossible, and manage to give the Aurelians the slip, I’ll still have to make my way through an enormous, hostile ship teeming with Toads and Bullfrogs.
Assuming I do that, I’ve then got to find a way off this ship – and then, where would I even go?
Not to mention, all this has to be accomplished beneath the seemingly omnipresent gaze of the Toad Captain – the one who’d torn a new one into that scarred Bullfrog when he’d threatened to make trouble at the auction.
No, rescuing Tessa is not an option. Even if I knew where Tessa was going to be taken to, there’s nothing I can do to help her.
Buttheycan.
The two Toad guards finally release my arms, hopping back down to their position above the viewing pool ready to take delivery of the next purchased slave.
I shudder at the feel of their slime, still glistening on my skin.
Marcel doesn’t seem to mind. He holds the leash up, calmly waiting for my submission.
When I don’t move fast enough, he murmurs:
“Don’t make me ask again - because I’ll ask with my palm on your ass, not my words.”
As he mutters those words, Marcel licks his lips. Lust flares in his eyes, and I sense that he’s imagining throwing me over his shoulder and slapping my ass until I beg for mercy.
That’s my destiny now. If I dare to ask anything of my new masters, Marcel or one of the others might snap out of the trance they fall into in my presence, and backhand for my insolence.
That’s what I should expect, right? Aurelians are proud. Marcel will expect a submissive slave – and if I don’t play the part sufficiently well, he’ll train me to adopt the role instead.Hard.
Even opening my mouth right now is a great risk.
But if I stay silent, then Tessa loses all hope. She’s going to be hauled off by that evil Bullfrog, to his aquarium somewhere on this ship.
I shudder.
Tessa might not last the night – not in the slimy hands of one of those sadistic creatures.
So, I steel myself. I can endure a brutal slap or a bare-bottom spanking if there’s a chance it might give me a chance to save my friend.
“Please,” I whisper.
Marcel looks at me, curious.
“Please,” I repeat, and then gesture towards Tessa as she kneels at the Bullfrog’s feet. “Please, buy that woman from the Bullfrogs.”
At the same time I whisper that, I step forward and lean my head down submissively – offering myself to the alien leader in a manner I hope he’ll find acceptable.
Apparently so. Marcel clips the leash around my neck.
I yelp as the tensioned collar contracts automatically to fit my slender neck – hugging firmly enough so I’ll always know it’s there, but not so tightly as to constrict my breathing.
I close my eyes as Marcel secures the collar. His fingers brush against my skin and send electric tingles through my body.
I’m not truly at his mercy. I know that with a touch, Marcel could make this leash tighten until I’m choking and gasping. My life is utterly in his huge, white hands.
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