Текст книги "The bride contract"
Автор книги: Melissa Emerald
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 1 (всего у книги 19 страниц)
Melissa Emerald
The Bride Contract
OceanofPDF.com
Copyright © 2025 by Melissa Emerald
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Melissa Emerald asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
Melissa Emerald has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.
First edition
This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy
Find out more at reedsy.com
OceanofPDF.com
Contents
Foreword
Acknowledgments
1. Chapter 1 – Niska
2. Chapter 2 – Niska
3. Chapter 3 – Niska
4. Chapter 4 – Niska
5. Chapter 5 – Kiahn
6. Chapter 6 – Niska
7. Chapter 7 – Niska
8. Chapter 8 – Kiahn
9. Chapter 9 – Niska
10. Chapter 10 – Niska
11. Chapter 11 – Niska
12. Chapter 12 – Kiahn
13. Chapter 13 – Niska
14. Chapter 14 – Niska
15. Chapter 15 – Kiahn
16. Chapter 16 – Niska
17. Chapter 17 – Niska
18. Chapter 18 – Kiahn
19. Chapter 19 – Niska
20. Chapter 20 – Kiahn
21. Chapter 21 – Niska
22. Chapter 22 – Niska
23. Chapter 23 – Kiahn
24. Chapter 24 – Niska
25. Chapter 25 – Kiahn
26. Chapter 26 – Niska
27. Chapter 27 – Niska
28. Chapter 28 – Kiahn
29. Chapter 29 – Niska
30. Chapter 30 – Kiahn
31. Chapter 31 – Kiahn
32. Chapter 32 – Niska
33. Chapter 33 – Kiahn
34. Chapter 34 – Niska
35. EPILOGUE – Niska
36. EPILOGUE – Kiahn
About the Author
Also by Melissa Emerald
OceanofPDF.com
Foreword
This is the first in an interconnected series that WILL converge with my Fated Mates of the Winged Barbarians Series. You do not need to have read that series to enjoy this book, but it will flesh out the world so much more – and you might catch some Easter Eggs I’ve dropped here and there! Enjoy!
OceanofPDF.com
Acknowledgments
With thanks to Gina E A (Editing and Assistance) for helping get this book out into the world! Contact her on gina.e.a@outlook.com
OceanofPDF.com
1
OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 1 – Niska
“I’ll do it.”
Lois and Jaya stop arguing long enough to turn toward me, one looking grateful, the other looking pissed.
“No. Nuh-uh,” Lois says, shaking her head, making her auburn curls bounce with the movement. “They’ll eat you alive in that place.”
My bunkmate has a flair for the dramatic, but she is the only one out of the three of us that has been sent to Star Pleasures Club before. It’s been maybe six months since we’ve been abducted from Earth, and purchased by the human slave trader, known as Mama Z’rykby. There used to be four of us here in our holding quarters, but Kaycee was bought a few weeks ago.
God, I hope she’s ok. We didn’t even get to say goodbye.
“Thank you for offering, Niska, but I’m the one who bit that… thing. So I should be the one to-”
“No,” I interrupt Jaya. It’s true that she’s the one who bit the hand of that… ‘customer’ who had come to see if he wanted to buy any of us, but it’s not like Lois and I wouldn’t have done the same. The guy was covered in spiny spikes and had the jowls of a St. Bernard dog, complete with strings of saliva that nearly touched the ground. “If she notices that you’re alright with going to a place like that, she might try to scan for your age again.”
Jaya sighs and tips her head back against the cold metal wall of our cell. “She’s going to figure it out sooner or later. She’s gonna wanna get her money’s worth out of me. You two can’t protect me forever.”
When we’d first been brought here, Jaya had been a shell of a person. Her anxiety attacks had ranged from being curled into a ball, to literally trying to pull out fistfuls of her hair, and banging her head against the wall. That’s when she wasn’t crying. Lois and I had managed to convince Mama Z’rykby, and her cricket-like husbands that Jaya is under-aged, telling them that there must be something wrong with their scanning systems. We insisted that she’s sixteen, and not the almost twenty-year-old she actually is. I don’t know what the age of consent is here in whatever armpit of space we find ourselves in, but it seemed to do the trick. Z’rykby has got this strange obsession with appearing like a caring, ‘ethical’ trader to set her apart from her competition here at Moon’s Rest Space Station. Which is weird, considering she is literally selling people into all kinds of slavery. I’m not sure you could get any more unethical than that.
Either way, selling an under-aged human would not look good for Z’rykby, so Jaya has been spared.
For now.
Honestly, Z’rykby has been too preoccupied lately with the fact that one of her beloved husbands went to go and retrieve some ‘fresh stock’ from one of the auctions, and never returned. She was so upset by this, she decided to eat two of her other husbands just for failing to comfort her.
This little slip up of Jaya’s when ‘Mr. Slobber’ had tried to touch her, might bring the slave trader’s attention back to her, and neither Lois nor I want that.
It turns out, the drooly guy is one of the owners of ‘Star Pleasures’, one of a few seedy clubs here at Moon’s Rest Station. Z’rykby sometimes sends girls there to work off her or her various husband’s tabs, but I’ve not experienced that ‘delight’ yet.
Lois had. It didn’t seem fair to let her go again in Jaya’s stead.
“Tock-tick, humans. I’m afraid this is the best I could do, but one of you has got to make it up to Master Joolyx.” Yix, Z’rykby’s nicest husband opens our tiny cell. He’d apparently negotiated Z’rykby down from just outright giving one of us to ‘Master Joolyx’ free of charge as an apology for the bite, to letting us work off the insult at his club. The giant, cricket-like man leans on the doorframe and taps at his watch – a human gadget he’d gotten from the black market. I’m pretty sure the thing was once a promotional Halloween giveaway since the orange strap is covered in black cats and bats with the words ‘Bonnie’s Candy Store’. But Yix is tickled pink by the novelty skeleton on the face of the watch, his bony arms acting as the hands of the clock.
“I’ll do it,” I reaffirm, giving Lois and Jaya a confident nod.
Yix stands up straighter, his antennae twitching. He takes a deep breath and wipes his forearm across one of his big, buggy eyes. “Make sure you stay away from the Yoxxarii in there, they are not looking for home servants or pleasure slaves.”
I step out of our cell and into the narrow, metal corridor, wincing from the garish brightness of the blue-white lights overhead. “What are they looking for?” I ask, following Yix out from the human sleeping quarters and into Mama Z’rykby’s storefront.
He glances over his shoulder at me, his bug-eyes unblinking. “They are looking for their next meal.”
OceanofPDF.com
2
OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 2 – Niska
Yix’s little buggy hands shook as he input the information into the machine he’s holding. He’s just been trying to give me all the information I’d need to survive this thing I’d volunteered for as he got me ready to be served up on a silver platter to Star Pleasures Club’s patrons. He’d combed my hair and picked out an outfit that covered more than most, and was in the middle of reeling off a list of all the different species I should stay away from, when Mama Z’rykby slid slowly into the velvet-draped room, dragging her huge, slug-like body behind her.
Yix had clammed up straight away, his usual ease replaced by nervous twitching.
“Husband,” Z’rykby says, her voice cloying and… wet-sounding.
“Y-yes, my love?”
“Why is this one dressed so modestly?” She slithers over to me and grabs my face in her slimy hands, turning me this way and that to get a good look. “She is a pretty one, with good, breeding meat on her,” she says, pinching my waist, making me yelp in surprise. Mama Z’rykby grins and pinches my cheek this time. “Do not fret, child. We will find you a good owner who will see to your every need.”
“At a pleasure club?”
The incredulous words had tripped out of my mouth before I could do anything about them. From the corner of my eye I could see Yix stare at me like I’d lost my damn mind.
Maybe I had.
Z’rykby’s smile faded and instead of pinching my cheek, she gave it a not-so-light tap instead. “Yes. Many a male pass through this station, and many a male is looking for a female to take care of.” Try as I may, I bristle internally at that. I do not need someone to take care of me. I never have, and I never will. And, I know she’s not referring to the ‘run her a bath and massage her shoulders’ kind of taking care of, too. “Come, my husband will make you look more appealing, and at the very least, you will please Master Joolyx’s patrons after yesterday’s… infraction.”
I wince at the not-so veiled threat and nod my head. Z’rykby lifts her wobbly chin at me, and I know what it is she wants me to say.
“Yes, Mama,” I tell her, plastering the biggest, fakest smile on my face. “You are so good to all of us. I am so grateful for this opportunity to represent you.”
The large, slug-lady looks genuinely pleased by my sickening words. She gazes at me like I’m one of her actual children who just made her oh-so proud. “Come,” she says again, shaking herself out of her happy stupor. She grabs my wrist and holds my arm out. “Husband, stamp the girl and then get her into something that shows off that golden brown human skin. Males love that your species come in such an array of colors.”
“Yes, my love,” Yix agrees as I ignore the way Z’rykby had been talking about humans like we were different colored coats that these alien dudes could try on to see which shade suits them best – like our skin tones are nothing more than a cute palette of colors to choose from to make sure their servants match their home decor. Yix scurries over to us with his little machine in hand, giving me a look like he can read my mind, and is reminding me not to speak it. He had been planning on printing the wrong information on my skin, so as to cause confusion with anyone who wanted to buy me tonight. But, after the quick heat of the laser skin printer leaves my inner forearm, I see that all the correct information is right there; my identifying number, where to buy me, and how much I cost to be loaned out, or bought outright. All for everyone to see in neon green ink that seems to glow.
I glance at Yix, and he gives me a sorrowful look. He obviously couldn’t risk the lies that would save me with Z’rykby being in the room.
She pats my cheek again. “I have a feeling you are going to be very good advertising for the business.” When her hand slips under my jaw, she grips me tightly. “Are you not?”
The threat in her hold and her words are not lost on me. “Y-yes, Mama,” I say, swallowing thickly. “I will make the males happy.”
* * *
Believe it or not, Star Pleasures Club is a few floors below Mama Z’rykby’s Trading House. Here on Moon’s Rest Station, the higher you go, the more affluent and respectable the establishments get – you start going lower, and things start looking like the last days of Rome. You might be surprised to learn that slave trading is good enough for a mid-tier level on this space station, so God knows what you could buy at the lowest levels. I’ve heard rumors that there’s slave traders down there, too. And that Mama’s twisted view of being ‘ethical’ would seem like a tea party in comparison to what’s going on down there.
Yix brings me to the door of Star Pleasures and somehow manages to look apologetic as we get there – which is a feat for someone with the face of a bug, mandibles and all. He gives me one last look up and down and lets out a frustrated little click. Z’rykby had insisted on me wearing a deep burgundy number, a two-piece outfit that hardly covered my breasts and left flowing fabric that drops from my waist to the floor, but only over my crotch and ass. The ensemble leaves my legs bare right up to the waistband. There are no panties either, so if anyone gets handsy…
Say what you want about Z’rykby, she knows how to sell a bed-slave.
I can do this.
I can do this.
I can do this.
Yix’s mandibles open like he wants to give me one last piece of advice.
But they close again, and he lets out a trilling noise, not unlike a cat.
“Better me than Jaya,” I tell him, needing to hear the words myself, too.
He nods and sighs. Me and the girls are pretty convinced he knows that Jaya isn’t under-aged, but he’s happily going along with it. Out of all of Z’rykby’s husbands, Yix is the only one who seems to get attached to us humans or shows any sort of kindness. “I will be back to escort you home at-” he stops and looks at his novelty Halloween watch and then arranges two of his buggy arms up in the air at different angles, indicating 5 o’clock. He doesn’t know the numbers, but he likes the different configurations of the clock-face skeleton arms.
5am. That’s seven hours away.
“This the female doin’ a shift from Z’rykby?” a coarse voice calls out from one of the giant security guards. He comes closer, dressed in all black tactical gear and holding a huge blaster in his hand. Oh God, why would he need that? I look up to his stern face to see his purple, bumpy skin and the rhino-like horn protruding from the top of his nose. Ceraphrixii, I think to myself, trying to recall what Yix had told me about that species. I’m pretty sure they aren’t the human-eating kind.
I take a deep breath and step forward. “Yes. That’s me. I’m here to work tonight.”
OceanofPDF.com
3
OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 3 – Niska
Star Pleasures Club takes up a large lot on this level, and is about as dark, and as seedy as you might expect a club to be on level three-hundred-and-forty-two out of a rumored five-hundred or so. The Ceraphrixii had jerked his head for me to walk inside and make my way to the bar to check in with the staff for my shift. When I enter, my eyes struggle to adjust to the combination of the dark and the strategically placed neon strip-lights in various colors. A loud, strange music with a rhythmic base that I can feel in my chest draws me forward. I’m not wearing any shoes, and the floor is sticky as hell, which is honestly… disgusting. There are two huge lit-up tanks flanking the entryway, and inside, there are some aquatic alien species – naked female ones, to be precise. I turn to one of them. She has green scaled skin and bright pink hair, with webbed fingers and toes, and a thick tail that looks like it would propel her really fast through water.
She notices me and blows a ‘bubble-kiss’ in my direction before pointing at a section of glass on her tank. I squint, seeing the strange, glowing, alien lettering before my translator kicks in and the words melt into English. ‘Tip amount for a show, tip amount to touch, tip amount to enter my tank…’
Oh.
I shake my head at her. “Oh, no. I’m not a patron,” I blush. “I-I’m here to work.”
Her whole demeanor changes, her engaging smile, morphing into a snarl before she whips her tail in a way that makes an aggressive wave of her tank water spill over the top of the glass. I gasp, jumping back, narrowly avoiding getting drenched.
“Hey!” a female voice calls out angrily above the music. “What the hell, Aquixia? We just mopped this floor before opening!”
It really doesn’t feel like the floor has been mopped in the last decade, but looking at the angry, tall, purple woman coming toward me, I don’t think it would be wise to mention that. “Sorry, that’s probably my fault,” I crane my neck to tell the woman. “I-…She thought I was a patron, I think? And I think she got her hopes up.”
The tall woman who I now see is wearing a little, frilly apron and… not much else besides strategically placed strips of leather, tuts and shakes her head. “Don’t mind her. She hasn’t figured out which land-species are the spenders around here yet.” She then looks me up and down and jerks her chin in my direction. “You here to work off a debt?”
I’m nodding my head and barely get to answer her verbally before she turns and gestures for me to follow further into the belly of the club. I don’t know why my anxiety has waited until now, but my stomach drops, my heart starts to beat double-time, and I find it hard to swallow. It all starts to become very real as I’m led past booths and tables, some with various alien women dancing nude atop them, with a group of transfixed males gathered ‘round, and some with women writhing in the laps of the vastly varied patrons, too.
I stop dead in my tracks when I’m led past one booth in particular. Right there, for anyone to see, is some kind of species of man where he almost looks part-shark, with a wide, toothy grin and markings that resemble the ripples of sunlight on turquoise waters. His attention is solely placed on the two orange-skinned females kneeling between his wide-spread legs, both their heads bobbing up and down over a cock each.
“Keep up!” the purple female calls over her shoulder, causing Mr Sharky-Two-Cocks to lift his head, run his tongue over his razor-sharp teeth and… wink at me.
Oh, hell no. I feel my face pale as I scurry to catch up with the woman while she weaves and bobs her way to the bar area. I can sense a few heads turn, and eyes following me as I go, and at one point, I’m sure I hear someone shout out ‘I claim first service from that human!’
I shudder at the thought.
But what really guts me is the thought that Jaya might be sent here one day. She’s technically an adult, but she is a sweet girl with little life experience and she is not adapting well. The whole situation with her has sparked a fire within me to try and get us out. Or at least to a safer kind of situation than part of Mama Z’rykby’s stock for sale.
And this place…well… maybe I can somehow learn something here? Turn a negative into a positive?
I get to the bar and take a look around while the purple woman is barking orders at the bar staff. There’s an area where the neon lights are lit up in red, looking like the patrons in that section are all bathed in blood as club workers sit in their laps and hand feed them their meals – all while being groped by tentacles. Off to the other side is a huge cage with neon light bars where several dancers show off their writhing bodies to the beat of the music. A group of males crowd the cage, occasionally one will enter enough credits at the scanner so that the cage door pops open and he reaches in to grab a dancer to take back to his table. Like a vending machine I guess, but instead of a bag of peanut M&Ms, you can select a woman.
Ok, yes, this place is terrifying.
But maybe if I work the shift and try to stay unnoticed, I might be able to find one of the species that Yix said are normally fair and… not quite kind to their servants, but at least not abusive. Those are always the ones he’s trying to sell us to. Which is still pretty shitty, but I figure the alternative guys that Z’rykby wants to buy us are far worse…
…and all of those kinds of guys are probably in this club right now.
“Ok, human,” the purple woman says, finally turning back to me. “You work a full shift. You keep my patrons happy. Every service you offer is chargeable by tip.” She pauses, raising a deep purple eyebrow at me as she points a finger in my face – a finger tipped with a glowing green nail. “You do not get to keep those tips. Remember, you’re working off a debt to Master Joolyx.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I nod my head, a little uncertain about these ‘services’ I’m going to need to provide as the base of the music keeps thumping through my chest and a very large, bulky male squeezes past me to get to the bar.
I watch as she taps on a handheld tablet, and without warning, a glowing orb zooms out of nowhere to come floating by my head. “Anchor it to you,” she says without looking up at me.
“Uh…”
The woman sighs. “Touch it, so that it’s programmed to follow you around.”
I do as instructed, noticing that the floating ball now glows brighter as it bobs in mid-air.
“That’s how you collect the service fees and tips,” she explains. “Oh, and wherever you can, up-sell Trixi dust.” The purple woman roots around in the large pocket of her apron and hands me a Barbie-pink vial.
I take the thing, and on closer inspection, can see it’s filled with pink powder. “Trixi dust?”
The woman rolls her eyes and pinches the vial I’m holding between her thumb and forefinger, plucking it out from my grasp to give the thing a shake. The powder starts to glow like she’d just awoken a whole swarm of multi-colored glittering fireflies. “Offer it out to patrons, it makes most species get goofy and glowy. Do not sell for less than a thousand credits a shot, and make them feel like big, important males for being able to afford it.”
I blink at the vial and then around the room again, spotting a few people dotted here and there who are wearing the twinkles on their skin, just like the little fireflies in the vial. So this stuff makes you… sparkle? It makes little fireworks erupt all over your skin?
Sales. I can do sales. I don’t want to sell myself, but I can sell a product like this. Even if it is drugs, I think to myself, wincing as I hold the vial up for inspection again, wondering about any side-effects from ingesting the pink powder.
“Oh, and human?” the purple woman says, reaching for my wrist. She turns it over and inspects Z’rykby’s mark – advertising exactly where to go to buy me and what my price tag is. She tuts and shakes her head. “Here,” she says, taking a strip of black leather she had been wearing as a choker. “You don’t want anyone from here getting notions about makin’ that purchase.” I watch as she winds the strip around my wrist and up my forearm, obscuring Z’rykby’s branding.
“Thank you,” I tell her, the words probably said too softly in this loud club to even be heard, but she gives me a nod nonetheless.
* * *
So, I’ve learned a few things over the span of my shift here at Star Pleasures Club. One, stay away from the guys covered in black and white fur because they let off some kind of noxious pheromone when they get turned on – kind of like Pepé Le Pew on steroids. Luckily, the purple woman – who I found out is named ‘Tringa’ – forces them out when it gets too bad. Two, the groups of guys who look like super-jacked up humans but with strange markings on their skin seem to only want to watch and not touch for some reason, but that’s perfectly fine with me. Three, if you touch a Ceraphrixii’s nose-horn, he will come in his pants. And four, I am excellent at selling Trixi dust.
I managed to team up with the orange-skinned, Raxilli females also working here, claiming to patrons that the absolute best way to take the dust is to snort it straight off the thigh of a Raxilli woman. It’s bullshit, of course, but the Raxilli girls were grateful to me for cueing up customers who then wanted to offer them tips for other services, and Tringa was happy that I’d sold all her Trixi dust.
I have no idea what time it is, but judging by how exhausted I feel, I think it’s getting pretty close to the end of my shift.
God, I hope I’m right about that.
I’m not so lucky that I’ve gotten away without being groped tonight. It seems it’s all up for grabs here in the club, and I’ve felt hands on my butt as I walked the premises, trying to look like I’ve got somewhere important to be, or while I’m ferrying drinks to tables from the bar. I’ve also sat in a few laps, too. So far, I seem to have chosen well; I’ve either managed to turn the conversation around from the patron trying to buy services from me, to them licking Trixi dust off the breast of one of my Raxilli colleagues instead, or just incessantly asked them questions about their lives. One thing seems to be universal; men everywhere love to talk about their favorite topic – themselves.
But just as I feel that I’m going to come out of this whole ordeal unscathed, I happen to walk by a booth occupied by three white males – and I don’t mean your regular human Caucasian white, either. I mean white-white. As white as a sheet of paper. All over their bodies, including their long, silky-looking hair. They look like they’re made of porcelain. The only parts of them that aren’t as white as snow are their eyes. They’re large, black and shiny, like someone had popped two big, black marbles into their eye sockets. The neon lights of the club reflect in the blackness of those eyes and something about this species unnerves me greatly.
“Come,” one of the males hisses in a sickening-sounding voice. “Come, we want the services of a tasty little human female.”
I shake my head, but before I can decline and make out that I’ve suddenly got somewhere very important to be, a hand shoots out and grabs my wrist, pulling me closer to the booth. It’s then that I realize that not only is this species eerily white, with soulless-looking eyes, but they have two sets of arms too.
That’s way too many hands for my liking. Especially when I’ve got a pretty good hunch about where they want to put those hands, too.
“Uh… no, th-thank you, but I really have to-”
I tug and struggle, trying to yank free of the big, milk-white hand currently gripping onto me. The owner of that hand grins at me, showing a set of teeth with each small tooth tipped into a sharp point. The sight makes my stomach churn, and I don’t know why I notice that of all the things that should be white, this guy’s pointed teeth are stained a reddish-brown.
“Do not fret, human,” he tells me uselessly, because whatever kind of panic my body is going through right now, it is way beyond ‘fretting’. “Yoxxarii do not always eat their fuck-mates. Perhaps you can make it too good for us to consider you food, hm?”
Yoxxarii.
Holy shit! These guys are Yoxxarii?!
My breathing speeds up as I continue to try and struggle free. This is one of the species Yix warned me about. Jesus Christ! Why couldn’t I be grabbed by those guys who look like giant teddy bears?! All they wanted to do was to cuddle and use my tits as a pillow! I could have dealt with that. Not these guys. No, no, no, I can’t get caught up with these guys!
Suddenly, I’m violently tugged down onto the lap of the Yoxxarii who has a hold of me, my heart leaping to my throat as I yelp and try to scramble away. It’s no use, though. He has too many hands, and each of them has a strong grip on me, his lower set of arms banded across my middle. His friends laugh viciously as they gleefully watch me struggle. “Quit wiggling, little human,” one tells me, reaching across and putting one of his large hands on my shoulder, ‘comforting’ me in the most patronizing way possible. “You cannot get free.”
A rumbling laugh erupts at my back. “Do not tell her this! I like when they wiggle and squirm.”
The Yoxxarii who is holding me on his lap, lifts his hips to emphasize the erection he’s sporting.
I feel sick.
Maybe if I actually do throw up all over these guys, they’d let me go?
One of the orange-skinned, Raxilli girls hovers by, no doubt following me to see if I can cue up more patrons for her to collect tips from. I make eye contact with her, making mine go big, trying to silently beg for her help here. I see the exact moment she realizes what type of clientele I’m with. The sultry smile slides right off her pretty, high cheek-boned face as she takes in the Yoxxarii holding me captive.
“Hey!” I call to her. “Come here!”
But the Yoxxarii clamps a big hand over my mouth and leans down to murmur into my ear. “Raxilli are good with their mouths, but you wouldn’t believe how flavorless they are.” His hot, rancid breath prickles my skin as I watch the orange woman hurry away. I can only hope she’s gone to get Tringa to come and save me.
“You see, this is why all of your bed slaves try to kill you, Yashhi,” one of the other paper-white aliens drawls, draping his upper set of arms across the back of the booth seating, the lower ones crossing over his chest. “You come on too strong with the fear. The poor thing is terrified.”
The guy holding me to him – ‘Yashhi’ – snorts in reply. “You are too soft, Byakii. Besides, it is more fun when they try to fight back.”
I try to calm my breathing, but it just doesn’t seem to work. There’s got to be a way out of this. Tringa wouldn’t just let them eat me, would she? I crane my neck, trying to get a glimpse of her at the bar, but she’s deep in conversation with the club owner, jowly Master Joolyx.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Ok, Niska, calm down. You can talk yourself out of this. You can… I don’t know… charm them or-
Byakii, the one sat opposite me leans forward and reaches out one of his too many hands to play with a lock of my hair, the black contrasting with his ghostly white. “You would probably prefer to service me, would you not, little, delicate human? I have all kinds of substances back at my quarters you can take so you won’t feel a thing.”
He smiles at me like what he’s saying is a terribly kind offer.
“B-but, you’ll still eat me.” I state, shaking my head. “No, I can’t… I have to-”
I’m struggling and squirming again, trying to escape the iron-like grip the alien has on me. This time, Yashhi clamps down on both my wrists and forces them to the table top, pinning my arms and torso down while his lower set of hands start to caress my thighs, trying to part them. I press the side of my head to the cool metal of the table’s surface and clamp my eyes shut, willing this to all be a terrible nightmare.
“What’s this?” Byakii asks, and I can feel him leaning over me from the opposite side of the booth. He tugs at the black leather strap Tringa had given me to hide that big ol’ ‘for sale’ sign I have stamped on my skin.
