Page 53 of Galaxy Gladiators Romance Box Set #11-19

Chapter Five

M aximus

This match is a catastrophe. It’s obvious why most civilized planets ban Charthians from cestus fights. There’s no way for an unarmed male to win against one.

Vartan gives a valiant effort, but he’s destined to lose no matter what he does.

“Give the sign,” I whisper, under my breath.

“Give the sign,” I say louder when Otol kicks Vartan in the shin with his spikes and Vartan hunches in pain.

The crowd, at first gasping in unison with each of Otol’s powerful punches, is now chanting, “Give the sign.”

“What sign?” Raine asks.

“The terrin sign. It signals forfeit.”

A moment later, my human companion’s sweet, high voice joins the crowd as she chants, “Give the sign.”

Finally, bloody rivulets sluicing down his body from forehead to heels, Vartan thumps his fist on his chest then holds it high in the air for the judges to see—the terrin sign.

As a wave of relief flows through my body, I stand, grab Raine’s hand, and move us toward the arched entryway. While we’re hurrying through the stands, I manage to comm the Fool’s Errand to ask them for help.

“Have you left atmo yet?” I ask Callista on comms. “Vartan is hurt. Badly. I’m on my way to see him, but he’s going to need more than the low-level medics they have at facilities like this. He’s going to need Dr. Drayke.”

Dr. Drayke, the blue doctor who lives aboard the Fool . He’s a good male, and he’s skilled. He’s saved more than one of their lives as they travel the galaxy.

By the time I’m informed that males from the ship will be here as soon as possible because the vessel is docked nearby, Raine is pulling me from the bright outdoors into the dim bowels of the catacombs.

“There are no doctors here on standby?” she asks as she yanks me forward. “Where have they taken him?”

If she wasn’t so new to this lifestyle, she’d know all she had to do was glance down to follow the trail of blood.

We arrive at the small room, little more than a closet, where they keep a gurney, medical supplies, and body bags.

The medic, a shaggy blue Whelpie who appears to have been sleeping, is shaking himself awake when we arrive.

Vartan is lying on the metal table. It’s a bad sign. I’ve seen gladiators with their arms torn off or huge gashes in their bellies, still sitting on their gurneys. We have a sense of pride. Lying down like that? He must be in excruciating pain.

Raine and I watch as the medic scans him with his medpad, then says, “Hundreds of puncture wounds, no single one serious. Altogether, he’s lost a lot of blood.” He sits and programs something into his pad. The antique medbot gets to work cleaning Vartan’s wounds.

“Give me antiseptic, sterile gauze, and a surgical scrub brush,” Raine says in a firm tone she’s never used before.

The medic shrugs, then sits to read on his pad.

“Now!” she thunders. “I’m a doctor,” she says when he doesn’t move a muscle. “I outrank you. Give me antiseptic, something to clean these wounds, and a surgical brush.”

When he doesn’t rush to provide her what she needs, I say, “If she doesn’t outrank you, I certainly do.” I take a menacing step toward him and he jumps from his stool to pull the requested items out of the lowest drawer. She pours antiseptic over her hands from the wrists down, uses the brush to scrub her hands, then pours the antiseptic on the cloths the medic provided.

When she’s busily cleaning the wounds on Vartan’s face, making sure to stay out of the medbot’s way, I whisper, “You’re really a doctor?”

“Well,” she hesitates as she delicately pats a tiny flap of skin back into place, “I’m a doctor, but I’m not licensed yet. I’m in my final year of residency.” She shrugs. “Or at least I was.”

I watch her hands as she competently cleans each of the small star-shaped wounds. I’m sure the medbot is as efficient as her, but isn’t as delicate. She’s compassionate.

Vartan has been in and out of consciousness. When he was aware enough to hear me, I told him the crew of the Fool’s Errand was coming to take him aboard. He said a fierce, “No!” then fell back against the hard metal cart.

“Have you given this male a painkiller?” Raine asks, taking her gaze from her patient long enough to spear the medic with a pointed look.

“Uh.”

“Now!” Raine demands, then asks the name and amount of the medication.

It was warm outside in the sun, but it’s cool here. We’re underground. At first, I didn’t know why Raine was sweating, but the scent of her arousal is getting stronger.

“Roofie?” I ask, using her code word for her condition.

“It’s been slowly ramping for hours,” she says as she stands at the head of the gurney to get better access to one of Vartan’s wounds.

“How much time do we have?”

“Not much, by the feel of things.” She uses her forearm to wipe the sweat from her brow.

When I hear a commotion down the corridor, I wonder if it’s the crew of the Fool . Shadow’s forceful, “Let me see him, now!” confirms it.

Shadow, Dax, and Steele run in and Raine gives a brief report for them to relay to Dr. Drayke. Within moments, they hurry out the door with Vartan on their hover-stretcher.

“Be well, my friend,” I call after him, although I think he’s in a coma.

I grab Raine’s wrist and we follow them down the hallway.

“Hurry!” she urges.

I hail a hover-taxi at the entrance to the arena and we climb inside.

“You never told me if you’re going commando, Maximus. I sure hope you are.”

As the driver tells us to buckle in and closes the partition separating his compartment from ours, Raine slides onto the floorboard at my feet and presses my knees apart.

“Good male,” she says on a sigh as she grabs my cock and licks the head, which is already beaded with my liquid. I’ve been hard as stone since I noticed the first blast of her arousal in that little medical room.

She moans in pleasure at that first swipe with the flat of her tongue. Just that quick lick feels so good I lift my hips in pleasure.

“Maximus.” She elongates the last letter of my name as if just saying it delights her. When she flicks that little divot on the crown of my cock, I moan in satisfaction.

The little drop of my essence she tasted must have given her some relief, because she sits back on her heels, pegs me with a hard stare, and goads, “You can’t make me do this, even though I’m your slave.” For good measure, she shakes her pretty head at me in challenge.

The extent of my experience with females is as a reward for a good day in the arena, and a succession of whores lunars ago on the pleasure planet. All of those females were paid for their services, and although some of them pretended they were interested in me, none of them were.

This female certainly acts as if she wants me. I’ve watched more than my share of sex vids since I’ve been free. I think Raine wants to playact. I’ll follow her lead.

I grip her chin and hold her gaze. “You’ll do as I say, little slave, or you’ll go back to the auction house where I bought you. Not only are you going to suck my cock, you’re going to enjoy it.”

“Never!” she says defiantly, her eyes shining with arousal.

I grab her hair at the nape of her neck and tip her head back, tilting her face to look at me. “Suck it!”

“You can’t make me.”

If I had thought of this game before, I would have wagered I’d hate it. I’ve been a slave since I was young, why would I want to pretend to be a Master? But my cock is kicking in excitement as I say, “I can and I will, slave, and you will call me Master.”

“Never!”

I tug her hair harder and watch as her eyes flare wide. The scent of her arousal explodes in the hover.

“You’ll begin by licking me. Every ince of me.” I use her hair to position her mouth at the base of my cock, then lean back with a smug look on my face, my palms behind my head.

“Bastard!” Her words are defiant, but her expression is lust-drugged.

“You’ll be punished for that.” I grip the back of her neck and force her mouth where I want it. For a moment I worry I’m the only one playacting and wonder if I’m abusing her, but one whiff confirms she’s enjoying herself immensely.

I watch her pink tongue lap my dark cock from base to tip until every ince of it is glistening with her saliva.

“That’s a good female,” I tell her as I stroke her head, my fingers sliding through her silky hair. “Now take me. Take me deep.”

Her little hand tightly grips the base of my shaft. She pierces me with a stare as she opens her mouth wide, surrounds the head without touching it, and waits.

“Do you need another order?”

She stays right where she is, paralyzed. I’ve never smelled her scent this potent before. She’s loving this.

“Pleasure my cock!” I thunder.

Tightening my grip on her hair, I press her down. Just as I worry that I’ve pushed her too hard, she moans in pleasure and begins to suck, her tongue swirling, head bobbing. She stops long enough to lift back, untie the material at the back of her neck, and free her breasts. Her hardened tips slide along my thighs as she gets back to work on my cock, sucking with her mouth, working with her hand. This is as close to heaven as I’ve been in my life.

Raine

My arousal has been ramping since the start of Vartan’s match. It continued to rise in the confines of that little medbay, especially with Maximus close enough to reach out and touch. Just wondering what he had on under his kilt was driving me insane.

On the run to the hover, I wasn’t sure I could make it without having to stop, crouch, and rub myself to completion in front of a thousand onlookers. As soon as we climbed inside, though, I felt like I had all the time in the world. I wanted him so badly, yet I wanted it to be good.

I thought I would hate having to pretend to be his bed-slave and call him Master, but I’m pretty sure it was what triggered my growing need for him. So even though I’ve never done this before with previous boyfriends, the idea of role-playing came naturally. Maybe he has experience, because he didn’t skip a beat before he jumped into the game.

My panties must be sopping wet, because I feel my cream sliding down my thighs. I want to come more than I’ve ever wanted anything before in my life. Except right now I’m loving sucking his dick even more than that.

“Does my slave want my come?” he asks.

“No!” I shake my head even though I not only desire it—I need it.

“You’re going to take my come. Should I make you swallow it or put it in that tight hole I bought?”

He’s trying to stay in character even as he’s allowing me to choose which will give me the most relief. I don’t want to choose. I like being his slave girl.

“Neither.” My answer is defiant, yet my mouth goes back to working that magnificent cock of his.

Wordlessly, he lifts me and places me on top of him so my knees straddle his thighs on the seat. My dress spreads around him, depriving me of the sight of his magnificent body.

His hands slide under my dress, then I hear the rip of my panties. He lifts me, placing my core on the head of his cock. I’m so slick it’s a wonder I don’t slide onto him effortlessly, but he’s so big it will still take some effort.

“Your punishment for calling me a bastard is you have to fuck yourself little slave. I’m going to teach you who your master is. You have till the count of five. If you haven’t hit bottom by then you’ll earn another punishment.”

I wage a swift war inside my head. Part of me wonders what the next punishment will be and if I will like it, but my need wins out.

“One!”

I slide onto him in slow motion. I feel the stretch as his thick head breaches my opening.

“I hate you,” I say, staying in character. What I want to say is how fucking wonderful this feels. How amazing it is to have his hot flesh piercing into me.

“Two!”

I slip down an inch, picturing the cock that’s hidden from view by my flowery dress. It’s a beauty. The shaft is massive and ribbed with so many bumps they circle his cock many times around. The exquisite feeling of being taken by a long, thick cock is only surpassed by the extra sensation provided by the symmetrical nodules that line his iron-hard rod.

“What a good little slave you are,” he husks when I’m fully seated. “I’m going to reward you.”

He dips his head to kiss me. The exquisite gentleness of his lips brushing mine is in stark contrast with the battle of wills we’ve been playing in our game. Perhaps it’s this that undoes me.

I throw my arms around his neck and press him close. His hairless chest rubs against my nipples, adding another element of arousal to our sex.

“Ride me, slave.” The tone he uses on that last word makes it a term of endearment rather than an insult.

The time for fighting back is over. No more arguments. I clutch his strong shoulders and ride him, tilting my pelvis so my little clit gets teased on every stroke.

“Call me Master when you come,” he orders in that sexy rasp he uses when he’s deep in the cave of his own arousal.

I’m so excited I can’t even pretend to object.

I’m pounding on him now. He’s not sitting quietly. No. He’s rising to meet me on every thrust, making every stroke a cataclysmic pounding of flesh on flesh.

I can’t hold back any longer. I buck against him and moan, “Master,” as I come, both our hips pistoning against each other, flesh slapping, mouths grunting and moaning in pleasure. I feel relief the moment he releases into me, his warm sperm bathing my internal walls.

My orgasm begins as a wave of relief. It’s like throwing water on a fire or putting ice on a burn. More reprieve than pleasure. It’s only now that the bliss begins. The long rolling climax flows through me, ramping my pleasure as every muscle contracts in spasms of delight.

It’s as if Maximus and I float out of the confines of the hover and dance among the heavens for the briefest moment. My channel grips him, quivering in aftershocks of satisfaction as we drift back onto the seat of the moving vehicle.

Sagging against him, I kiss his neck, then bite the cords, then kiss again.

Reaching under my dress, he slaps my ass and says, “That will teach my little slave to follow her Master’s orders.”

I reach up and stretch, then settle back against his chest like a happy cat.

Neither of us wants to leave this position. His palm is slowly stroking my back, I’m nuzzling the warm cove near the front of his throat.

“You’ll never tame me,” I tell him even though we both know our game is over.

“I wouldn’t want to,” his warm tone is serious.

I drift off to sleep aware of him gently tying the straps of my dress behind my neck. I wonder what exactly is going on between the big, brash gladiator and me.

Maximus

Did Raine’s problem have anything to do with the injection the auctioneer gave her? I now doubt it, because right this moment, I think it’s contagious. She gave it to me.

My body is on fire. I believe it’s starting just the way it did with her. Heat is boiling through me, leaving no ince of my body untouched. My toes feel scorched. My scalp is sizzling. I feel as if my hands are being dipped in boiling oil.

I stand from where we were sleeping in bed and lurch to the refresher. After closing the door, I sag onto the toilet and try to catch my breath. I’ve had a deep slash to my abdomen that nicked my appendix. If it had been any deeper, I would have died. I’ve had my head stomped on by a huge Anthen warrior. I don’t recall ever experiencing pain like this.

Did Raine experience this level of pain? She’s tougher than she looks.

After heaving myself up, I careen to the shower, step in, and turn it on. Instead of cooling me and providing relief, it feels as if icy needles are piercing my skin.

It’s taking too much effort to stand, so I sag to the floor, my back against the far wall. I dip my head so the water pelts my scalp, and let the water rain down on me.

The demanding sexual arousal Raine experienced is not happening. Just the heat. And the pain.

Weakness invades my limbs. I watch my hands tremble like an old male’s. They look so foreign it’s as if they don’t belong to me.

Pain is rolling through me in waves so deep and so harsh I can’t sit up, so I lie on my side. I thought being pounded by the cool water would bring at least a shred of relief, but I get none.

Even though I’m burning up, I’m shivering. It makes no sense.

For a moment, I consider calling out for help. Raine would come. Of that, I have no doubt. Our relationship may be based on sex and need, but she’d try to help if I called her.

I won’t call her, though. I’ve never asked for help in this lifetime. Not since I was stolen at any rate. I learned early and well that no one was coming to help me. No reason to start now. I’m not weak.

Perhaps I dozed for a while because I realize I’m not in as much pain. The lighting in the refresher is different than it was. Maybe the sun has risen and is leaking under the door.

Rolling to my knees, I heave myself to my feet, turn off the water, and stumble out of the shower. My muscles are weak as a muscillus pup’s as I make my way to grab a towel.

Something odd catches my eye and my head whips toward the mirror over the sink.

I’m glowing.

All of me isn’t glowing. Just patches of my skin. It looks like golden writing of some sort. Is this sorcery? A curse? Am I dying?

I doubt I’m dying. The pain is down to a manageable level. Did the human do this to me? Humans are highly sought after throughout the galaxy as bed-slaves. Certainly, if they caused this to happen to every male they dracked no one would abduct them—they’d be worthless at auction.

I slip out to the table in our bedroom that’s laden with computer pads. We use them to order food and goods. Even though I can’t read, I’ve learned how to use the talking feature.

Stumbling back into the refresher, my limbs aching from cramping for so long, I sit on the toilet, a pad clutched in my hands.

“Glowing skin,” I say.

The computer recites a long list of animals with bioluminescence.

“Bioluminescence.”

The pad gives a lengthy explanation I only listen to long enough to learn this has nothing to do with me. Well, it does, but it doesn’t explain what’s happening.

An idea dawns in my head. It’s been three decades since I was on Addai. After my abduction, I pushed pictures of my childhood out of my head. They made me yearn for home. They made me cry. Tears were punished. After a while, I forgot my roots. They were too painful.

I remember them now. I remember enough to recall my father’s chest. It glowed like mine.

“Addai bioluminescence,” I tell the computer.

“Addai bioluminescence is linked to the race’s mating biology,” the female computer voice informs me. “If a male and female briefly copulate, the anomaly isn’t triggered. However, when a male and female copulate frequently and over a period of at least three days, the male of the species develops the bioluminescent phenomenon which usually appears on the chest and arms, but can be found elsewhere on the body.

“Scientists say the phenomenon is an evolutionary benefit to the species. Once triggered, the male is forever bonded to his mate. This is why the species’ mating rituals lock the newly wedded couple in a room until the male exhibits the physical signs of the transition. This ensures complete monogamy on the male’s part. He will be either physically unable to copulate with another female or will experience great pain if he attempts to do so.”

I sag against the back of the toilet, my mouth open in shock. There were a lot of big words in there, so I ask the question again and have her repeat it—twice. Unfortunately, I understood it correctly the first time.

“Is Addai bioluminescence reversible?”

“Once the phenomenon is activated, the condition is permanent.”

“Addai mating bond.”

“The mating bond is permanent. The male of the species cannot copulate with any female other than his mate. Bonded males often experience fatigue, weakness, depression, and pain if separated from their mate for more than one or two days. If left separated without copulation for long enough, the condition can prove fatal.”

My mind is casting about trying to think of a way out of my predicament even as my body has accepted what the AI said as the truth. Waves of nausea flow through me, crashing inside me in swirls and eddies.

I’m bonded to the human in the other room. The female who needed my cock and sperm and caused this dracking condition.