Page 1 of Master (The Outlander Book Club… in Space! #3)

Clara

My first few weeks as an alien abductee hadn't been all that bad—all things considered.

They’d fed me well, decked me out in grandeur, and the best part was the machine that de-aged my body a good thirty-plus years. I didn’t even mind the copious amounts of alien porn always available on the holographic projector in my private room.

Of course, when you take into consideration, I now lived aboard an alien whorehouse, and the "porn" served as training videos to teach me how to please any manner of alien species. My situation turned from "not so bad" to "downright terrifying."

Still, if someone had to end up on an alien bordello, out of all my friends, I’m glad it was me. While I didn’t relish what awaited beyond the carved wooden door to my room, I couldn’t imagine my friend Daisy… or any of them, for that matter, handling life on a spaceship bordello all that well.

A spasm clutched my chest as it always did when I thought of the girls of the Tuesday Night Outlander Book Club.

The six of us had been best friends for over twenty years.

God only knows how I would have survived my husband’s illness and death without them.

We'd been on one of our regular monthly excursions, hiking along the Appalachian trail, chatting about our favorite subject—Jamie Fraser—when the proverbial white light appeared in the sky.

After that, everything went fuzzy until I woke up on this hedonism ship with my youthful body and a weird implant in my head that made every bizarre grunt and hiss translate into English.

I asked anyone who would talk to me, but there no one knew anything about my friends.

Apparently, being the only human on this ship made me a hot commodity—one my new owner treated very dearly.

Honestly, I'd enjoyed exploring parts of the seven-floor bastion of hedonism.

Especially the first floor, where an army of chefs turned out the most delicious dishes imaginable.

Granted, it's not Earth food, but I'd gained a pound or two since arriving a couple of weeks ago.

The second floor devoted to gambling was fun to explore, especially watching what stood in for horse racing in this section of the universe.

I'd even won a few credits. The money system for aliens reminded me of thin, metallic poker chips.

The third floor, where the addicts reveled in the copious amounts of drugs and alcohol, provided—I stayed away from there. It wasn't my cup of tea.

I’d rather stay away from level four, home to twenty-four-hour strippers, sex shows, and porn. Unfortunately, the alien, who thinks of herself as my new owner, insisted I visit the level for training purposes. Granted, I learned a new move or two, but my time on the pole was long over.

I knew the fifth level well since it was home to girls like me. Pleasurers—just a nicer word than prostitute, although I was under no misconception about what my owner expected from me. The sixth level devoted itself to fighting. Thankfully, I wasn’t required to visit, which left the seventh level.

I wasn’t exactly sure what happened on the ship's lowest level, only what the other girls whispered. Which was that nobody ever returned from the seventh level.

Ever.

The creature calling herself my owner seemed relatively nice for an alien brothel madam.

She belonged to a species called Ntavian, and rumors said the species genetically modified themselves to give and receive pleasure.

I’d heard rumors she possessed two vaginas, but I couldn’t get past the six breasts she always shoved in my face to worry about her undercarriage.

Luarian ensured I felt comfortable in my good-sized, albeit gaudily decorated room, dressed and fed well.

She allowed me time to acclimate to my new life aboard her ship, the Hartouk Lenaii.

But that time was up.

Tonight.

When she visited my room this morning, it was to relay that I needed to entertain my first client within the next twenty-four hours or risk being sold.

There was no telling what kind of alien would pay for an hour of my time, but I knew exactly which alien would buy me.

He’d already offered—several times.

The first time I saw the creature, he made me think of a walking, talking teddy bear.

If that teddy bear was the star of a psycho horror movie.

He smacked his lips and ran his long, thick tongue over 3-inch fangs as he gazed at me, making my stomach clench with fear.

And this was before I'd learned that his species, the Kerzak, enjoyed the taste of human flesh.

I had little choice.

Tonight, for the first time in three years since my husband Curtis died, I would have sex... with a stranger… an alien stranger.

I wasn't a prude like my friend Daisy, but I hadn't touched another man since Curtis died. I’d gone on dates with the handful of men my friends set me up with, but when it came time for intimacy... I balked.

Curtis was the love of my life. My hero. Being intimate with anyone other than him just felt wrong.

But tonight, I had to put those feelings aside. Maybe just sex for the sake of sex alone would be easier to get through. There would be no camaraderie , no getting to know one another. Just pure carnal action. Slam, bam, thank you, ma'am, pay the cashier, and goodbye.

I just needed to deal with being completely grossed out by whoever darkened my doorway.

Maybe I’d get lucky, and it would be him.

I’d only seen him once, but it left a lasting impression.

Tall, muscular, and dressed head to toe in black leather with thick, dark brown hair pulled into a sexy man bun.

His skin was golden suede, highlighted at his shoulders with black tattoos resembling Nike swooshes.

His eyes were his most stunning feature, like nuggets of gold floating in a cobalt sea.

Those eyes tickled my skin when I’d caught him watching as Luarian led me and a few other girls from dinner one night.

At first, I thought he was eyeing my companions, exotic alien beauties, all of them. But then our eyes met, and he’d given a slow nod, his golden gaze traveling over my body. I may not have six boobs, but I was no slouch. From the smile that curved his broad, full mouth—he didn’t think so either.

That moment was four days ago, and I hadn't seen him since. However, the sight of him stayed with me, especially when the fear of what type of hideous creature I might have to sell my body to taunted. It was him on my mind when I sent up a silent prayer for what loomed on my horizon.

It might not be so bad if my first client looked like him.

Hell, I might even enjoy it.

I'd enjoy it much better than being eaten by a psycho Winnie the Pooh.

A sharp tap on the door jerked me to the present.

Shit!

I stood from my perch on the mattress's edge, arranging the skirts of my gown.

Aliens seemed to think Earth women still dressed like Marie Antoinette.

The clothes were cumbersome, but I wasn't about to complain.

I preferred being draped in yards of fabric over walking around wearing the three small strips of cloth and string favored by the other girls.

The door swung open, and Luarian strode into the room.

Despite her alien appearance, the woman…

female… whatever… was breathtakingly beautiful.

Statuesque with pale lavender skin, intense green eyes, and thick dark purple hair piled in ringlets atop her head.

She carried herself like a runway model.

Her body was slender and draped in a teal green silky cape, left open at the torso to expose the line of her breasts—all six of them.

Her boobs weren't like mine, all soft and jiggly.

While full, they were firm with sharp dark purple nipples that I thought might hurt if one poked you.

"Are you ready for tonight, little human?" Through my translator, her voice held a purring quality.

"Ready as I’ll ever be,” I shrugged, flopping back onto the mattress.

Luarian frowned, drawing nearer. "You are a prize, little human, one that cost me far too many credits not to earn her keep."

It was my constant reminder. I'd asked once how much she paid for me, astounded when she responded my price was over three million credits.

While I'd like to take the exorbitant price as a point of pride, it was probably a rate of exchange like the yen, and a million alien credits equaled twenty dollars.

I forced a smile to my lips, gritting my teeth behind it. One thing I learned from my years as a foster kid—don't piss off the person that feeds you.

“I’ll do my best.”

Luarian settled on the bed beside me, her long fingers laying over where my hand nervously smoothed my skirts.

"I know this is hard for you, little human, but I will do my best to ensure your well-being."

A long lavender finger settled under my chin, turning my gaze to hers.

“A wealthy Karisian paid handsomely to be your first experience with an alien male. He's reputed to be gentle and kind.”

"Thank you," I muttered, drawing a deep breath to settle the bile raging in my stomach.

Karisian.

Was that the species that looked like blobs of Jello or the ones that looked like a cross between a frog and a hedgehog? Maybe it was the one with a catfish face with legs like a cricket?

Yuck!

“I want you to be happy here, little human,” Luarian sighed. “I don’t want to alarm you with stories of what others of your kind have to endure out in the universe.”

I pulled my gaze away, not wanting her to notice the flicker of sheer terror that shot through me at her words. The idea of what my friends might endure while I sat here in a silk gown with a full belly horrified me—fucking an alien aside.

"I want that, too," I muttered. How many times had I said that before?

Clara, we want you to find a loving foster family.

I want that, too.

Clara, we want you to fit into our family.

I want that, too.

Clara, we want you to be able to get along with the other children here.

I want that, too.

Clara, we want you to understand why we cannot keep you. We want you to find a place where you'd fit in better.

I blinked away the heat in my eyes and forced a smile to my face, the type of smile every foster kid can perfect. "When can I expect my…client… to visit?" Maybe I'd have time to get drunk before he got here. Alien wine flowed like water on this ship.

"He sent word that he would arrive after his meal." Luarian patted my hand and stood. "That gives you some time to rest and ready yourself. Why don't you wear that lovely pink ensemble I gave you?"

Oh great, the crotchless panties. At least the lace creation didn't have nipple cutouts—that was something.

Luarian glanced back at me once before slinking out the door. But it was a look that meant business.

I rose and headed to the closet, a stream of curse words bursting from my mouth—I even said a few French ones I knew. I might have to fuck an alien. I might even have to wear something that looks like it came from a bad eighties porn movie to do it, but it was a means to an end.

I had a plan. Get the hell off this ship and find my friends.

I just didn’t have a clue how to do that yet.

One step at a time. Unfortunately, the first step was fucking an alien. Make that fucking an alien and trying not to vomit.

Of course, if I barfed, I might be able to convince the guy it was the human way of expressing pleasure.

Ugh .

I snatched the silky pink lace bikini-nightie thing, snagging a bottle of alien wine as I strode toward the bathroom. I didn't bother grabbing a glass. If this didn’t rank as a drink from the bottle moment , nothing would.