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I roll my eyes at their frivolous endeavor. Such noble males to risk their freedom to rescue a clutch of used up female sex slaves. There's no profit to be had rescuing the likes of those bedraggled whores. However, there is reward to be had in capturing and returning the warden's property.
“I figured all this ruckus was caused by you, Nomadican,” I say, stepping out of the shadows to block their exit. “But you, Valosian, I never would have expected.”
“Step aside, Navik!” Ruze hisses.
Undeterred, I roll my shoulders and face off with the Nomadican. The horned male makes a decent opponent, with horns that curl around his head, ending in deadly tips and a body made of solid muscle. His fangs glimmer in the feeble light of the corridor. He stands with hands curled into fists, like an animal ready to strike.
“And let you steal my ship for a second time?” I quirk a brow at him and train my gaze on the silver male. “I don’t think so. Warden Hyt will reward me handsomely for the capture of his prized Berserker.”
“If I was so prized by the warden, then why did he bet against me?” The fine knit of the Valosian's silver scales ripple in shades of blue and white with his anger. “Why bring a creature here he thought could beat me?”
“Rumor has gotten around the galaxies that Warden Hyt runs unfair fights,” I say. “Ticket sales have diminished greatly for future fights. To show he runs legitimate fights, he commissioned me to capture and bring a Wetokian to battle against his prized warrior of Valose. But I knew odds were good you would win. Valosian warriors are too proud to lose," I tell the silver male known as the Berserker and point to the soft glow of his shawra. "And once I saw you had a spirit mate, I knew nothing would stop you, not even a Wetokian, from protecting her. The warden thought to soften you by giving you a female. That was his mistake.”
“Then you should be afraid as well, pirate.” The Berserker moves through the crowd of females and comes to stand before me, electro-rod poised and ready to strike me down. “I will do much worse to you than I did to the Wetokian if you do not let us pass.”
I smirk. In a quick movement, I reach back to pull the blaster free of my waistband. “You don’t bring a spear to a gun fight, Valosian.”
The Valosian moves to block his spirit mate, raising the electro-rod to his shoulder as he readies to throw it like a spear. Stupid, unenlightened, inferior species. He might be unbeatable against normal opponents, but he's never met the likes of me.
The Nomadican's fist comes out of nowhere, flattening my nose into my face. Blood spurts in all directions as the unexpected pain momentarily stuns me. So focused on the Valosian, I stupidly lost sight of Ruze. I slap a hand over my nose to stanch the free flow of blood, then aim my blaster at Ruze's chest.
The blaster is knocked from my hand in a shower of sparks. I underestimated the Valosian's skills. My blaster clatters to the floor, and I dive to retrieve my weapon, but the Nomadican gets there first.
The blast to the center of my chest knocks me off my feet in a searing shower of blue mist.
* * *
CORA
Legs spread wide and shackled at the ankles, the tip of a massive sex toy probes my entrance. My arms are stretched above my head and tied at the wrists to the padded table. I lay there numbly, not the least bit interested in giving in to Warden Hyt's perversion of being fucked with his weird toys.
The alternative is worse. Given to the arena's victors as a prize to be violated in whatever orifice they see fit is a much worse fate than being a coveted pet of the warden. At least I'm well fed, clothed, clean, and have a decent bed in my gilded cage.
I hate the feel of the heat radiating from his dismal blue body as he hovers over me. Bare chested, he wears loose fitting, harem-style pants. The waistband lost under a bulbous belly and slabs of sagging muscle, which ripple down his chest and stomach with each of his labored breaths.
The shiny, metal piercings covering his body sparkle in the light as he moves. Some embedded with jewels of all colors, making him look like a giant, melting Christmas tree.
After all these years of being his plaything, I remain stubborn. No matter what he does to my body, my mind will remain my own. I refuse to bend to his will. Never will I give him the satisfaction of yielding. If he wants to watch me climax, he'll have to force it out of me.
Warden Hyt leans down to whisper in my ear, "Always so obstinate in the beginning, my beauty, but soon you'll succumb to your carnal needs."
His words make me want to jam an ice pick into my ear to destroy the translator implanted there when I first arrived. I've tried digging it out with my little finger, but it's in there too deep to reach.
His breath is hot and vile as he glides the bulbous head of the toy through my unwilling slit. I shrink into the table, turning my head away from his pungent stench. My throat tightens, knotting as I close my eyes and imagine I'm someplace else. Anywhere but here.
Impotent, he doesn't get off in a conventional way, but he thrives on power. Controlling others is his orgasm.
"So lovely," he says and parts my flesh with two thick fingers then rubs the toy through my dry sex. "I will see your body weep and convulse around the cock in my hand."
Words of protest gather on my tongue, but I know better than to talk back. I learned the hard way to keep my mouth shut, spending an eternity inside a dank hole carved out of the rock that makes up this underground labyrinth.
From what little I've seen, this prison is an enormous system of small caves connected by hollowed-out corridors. Each cave houses a single prisoner locked away behind metal bars until they're paired up and fight to the death inside the arena.
Rotund guards patrol the corridors. Outfitted with shiny helmets, a tinted visor covers their eyes. Armed with long poles that glow blue on the tips and deliver an electric shock. A sickly shade of purple, their upper bodies need no armor as they are covered in quills that stick out in all directions like the quills of a porcupine.
At least that's what I remember from my one time outside the warden's bedroom, which is not much more than a large cave with a single exit. The scenery is oppressive enough without me making it worse with disobedience. Being lowered into a hole where I can't lift my arms from my sides is why I never put up a fight despite wanting nothing more than to run away and never look back.
"Have it your way, my beauty." The warden reaches for the container of the dreaded spray. It's like Viagra in a can only it doesn't last for hours, only long enough to make me writhe for what I don't want.
