Page 55
Story: Sold to the Alien Smugglers
“The third one,” I murmur, “the one that looks like he’s seen a ghost. He burst into the room and interrupted Lucius – the one with the lips – right while we were…”
“Interrupted him when you were doingwhat?”
My cheeks burn hotly.
“When we were…”
I’m feeling like a harlot, but Tessa leans forward, eyes wide with worry.
“Did he try to force himself on you?”
I look down sharply, staring at my hands. I feel guilty that she sounds concerned, and so ashamed that I don’t want to answer her question.
In the end, I change the subject.
“They don’t think of themselves as Rogue,” I respond, totally ignoring her question. “They said they had to resist me, because theyboughtme – but that doesn’t make any sense to me. They’re based here, on a Toad mothership. They just bought us at a slave auction! Why would they not take advantage of their property? And why don’t they think they’re Rogue? It doesn’t make any sense!”
Tessa wrinkles her nose.
“I think you have more of the story than I do.” Her eyes narrow. “Why did that Bullfrog have it out for you? The one who tried to buy you – it was like heknewyou. Enough to nearly pick a fight with our triad over you.”
Our triad – I don’t think Tessa even realizes she’d said it.
But that’s merely a fleeting thought. The feeling that floods me instead is shame.
Shame that’s even worse than begging a slave-trading Rogue Aurelian to fuck my brains out, like I’d been on the brink of doing back in that bedroom.
I shiver. I don’t want to tell Tessa about my past.
I don’t want to tell her about the woman I used to be, because I’m now merely a shadow of the woman I once was.
That woman had been fierce. Strong. She wouldn’t be where I am right now – not wrapped up in a pleasure dress, throwing herself at the first towering warrior who’d offer her protection.
That woman wouldn’t have kissed a slave-trading scumbag like Lucius – and she certainly wouldn’t be aching for the touch of not just him, but also his two battle-brothers; all three the type of amoral, evil men she should loathe.
I sigh.
“It’s a long story.”
Tessa nods. “It’s a long fucking life, isn’t it?” She looks down at her outfit, and sighs. “We’ve got our futures to worry about, not our past. Gods, this dress is something, isn’t it? I’ve got to get out of it - I don’t know how you stand it.”
“Not much other choice, unless you want to be naked.”
Tessa winks at me – but everything she does seems faint and robotic – as if she’s merely going through the motions. I barely knew her before this nightmare began, but I sense that the girl smiling thinly at me now is just a shadow of her old self – just like I am of mine.
Still, full of sudden energy, Tessa bounds to her feet.
“Just you watch,” she says…
…but the moment she stands, Tessa immediately loses her balance. I have to dart up to catch her before she falls to the hard deck.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Tessa winces, grimacing in pain.
“That’snotwhat I meant you to see,” she laughs thinly. Then, eyes softening, she confesses: “It’s my leg. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. Being chained up to a wall must have messed it up, I guess.”
I realize now that the area on her thigh she was stroking earlier was the location of some torn muscle or tendon – and it wasn’t the pleasure dress driving her fingers there.
“Interrupted him when you were doingwhat?”
My cheeks burn hotly.
“When we were…”
I’m feeling like a harlot, but Tessa leans forward, eyes wide with worry.
“Did he try to force himself on you?”
I look down sharply, staring at my hands. I feel guilty that she sounds concerned, and so ashamed that I don’t want to answer her question.
In the end, I change the subject.
“They don’t think of themselves as Rogue,” I respond, totally ignoring her question. “They said they had to resist me, because theyboughtme – but that doesn’t make any sense to me. They’re based here, on a Toad mothership. They just bought us at a slave auction! Why would they not take advantage of their property? And why don’t they think they’re Rogue? It doesn’t make any sense!”
Tessa wrinkles her nose.
“I think you have more of the story than I do.” Her eyes narrow. “Why did that Bullfrog have it out for you? The one who tried to buy you – it was like heknewyou. Enough to nearly pick a fight with our triad over you.”
Our triad – I don’t think Tessa even realizes she’d said it.
But that’s merely a fleeting thought. The feeling that floods me instead is shame.
Shame that’s even worse than begging a slave-trading Rogue Aurelian to fuck my brains out, like I’d been on the brink of doing back in that bedroom.
I shiver. I don’t want to tell Tessa about my past.
I don’t want to tell her about the woman I used to be, because I’m now merely a shadow of the woman I once was.
That woman had been fierce. Strong. She wouldn’t be where I am right now – not wrapped up in a pleasure dress, throwing herself at the first towering warrior who’d offer her protection.
That woman wouldn’t have kissed a slave-trading scumbag like Lucius – and she certainly wouldn’t be aching for the touch of not just him, but also his two battle-brothers; all three the type of amoral, evil men she should loathe.
I sigh.
“It’s a long story.”
Tessa nods. “It’s a long fucking life, isn’t it?” She looks down at her outfit, and sighs. “We’ve got our futures to worry about, not our past. Gods, this dress is something, isn’t it? I’ve got to get out of it - I don’t know how you stand it.”
“Not much other choice, unless you want to be naked.”
Tessa winks at me – but everything she does seems faint and robotic – as if she’s merely going through the motions. I barely knew her before this nightmare began, but I sense that the girl smiling thinly at me now is just a shadow of her old self – just like I am of mine.
Still, full of sudden energy, Tessa bounds to her feet.
“Just you watch,” she says…
…but the moment she stands, Tessa immediately loses her balance. I have to dart up to catch her before she falls to the hard deck.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Tessa winces, grimacing in pain.
“That’snotwhat I meant you to see,” she laughs thinly. Then, eyes softening, she confesses: “It’s my leg. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. Being chained up to a wall must have messed it up, I guess.”
I realize now that the area on her thigh she was stroking earlier was the location of some torn muscle or tendon – and it wasn’t the pleasure dress driving her fingers there.
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