Caged with the Alien Gladiators by Corin Cain
Brock
Wheeler’s doing push-ups against the concrete, keeping his muscles limber. I can’t focus. I pace back and forth, my hand still burning from when I tried to get through the thin bars of our cage. They looked weak enough. I wasn’t expecting the shock to knock me to the floor.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” I slam my other palm against the side of the cell.
“We did what we had to,” says Reg, his eyes opening slowly as he relaxes in a squat, meditating. His mind is clear no matter what.
“It was a trap. An obvious trap?”
Reg shrugs. “Would you have turned back if you knew?”
He has me there. “No,” I admit, pacing from one end of the long cell to the other. It’s strange. What kind of cell with bars has a private bedroom and bathroom? It makes no sense.
We were hot on the tail of a slave ship that had picked off a transport in Wild Space. Lots of transports lately, refugees trying to get to safety before the universe runs red with blood. Attacks have increased. Usually the Aurelian Empire patrols Wild Space hotspots, but we’ve had to pull back resources to protect the planets who pledge loyalty to us.
It’s not just pirate attacks that have increased. The Scorp are going mad. The bloodthirsty reptilian creatures have been attacking en masse, ripping through peaceful settlements. If we could Orb-Shift, it would be one thing. Now we must take standard journeys, and our response times have fallen.
Normally there’d be a force of twenty Reavers and a warship.
This time there were only three of our attack ships.
We disobeyed a direct command from our superiors telling us to back down when the slaver ship crossed the border into the Toad Kingdom.
Something…
“Something pulled us to it,” I say, half to myself. When Wheeler said we were going to follow, I felt my heart pound with elation. Like I’d been drifting my whole life and now I was finally homed in on my destiny.
Our mission was simple. Capture a slave ship. Get information. Why did the Toad King promise a lordship to any slaver that captured a triad of Aurelians? It makes no sense. What good are three Aurelians to the Toad Kingdom?
We threw away ninety years of military service to make the choice. One more decade and we could retire on Colossus, granted a massive estate, sipping wine by the pool while we gathered a harem.
The court martial is the least of our worries.
Wheeler pulls himself up. He’s drenched in sweat, his black T-shirt sticking to his body. The Toad Lord who owns this palace provided us with fresh clothes and food.
As cells go, it’s a good one. The main area looks like a standard jail cell, with thin bars, looking out at an empty cell across from us. One side goes into a private bathroom with a huge shower, made for an Aurelian. On the other side is a doorway that leads into a private bedroom, with a single massive bed. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor, personally, but it’s a strange arrangement.
It seems like the Toad Lord was expecting to have Aurelians captive. But if that’s the case, why only one bed?
Reg pointed to the scratches on the ground where the bed was dragged into the room. Looks like it was set up hurriedly.
It feels like there’s a million different pieces, and I can’t put the puzzle together.
All I know is I’d trade every luxury for my Orb-Blade.
“It was my decision,” says our leader. Wheeler’s gotten me through tough scrapes, and he’s not afraid to question orders from up on high. We’ve been whipped thrice because of his rebellious nature, but I know I’d be dead if he’d followed orders blindly. Wheeler pulls his T-shirt off, and his skin is unblemished by the blasphemous markings of the Priests and the Old Ways.
He’s got a bullet wound he wears with pride. I’ve got my share of scars.
I stand with my back to the wall, staring out at the bars and the empty hallway. No one’s walked past us in the hour we’ve been here. “Why do you think he’s holding us here?”
“To fight,” says Reg with certainty, slowly rolling his neck, keeping limber. “He caught us in Toad Kingdom space. He can choose to execute us for trying to kill Toads in his territory. But he won’t do that. He’ll pit us against foes.”
“He can’t. Execution is one thing. He can’t legally put us in a ring,” I growl, clenching my hands into fists.
I could use a good fight right now. It’s better than feeling powerless in a cell.
Wheeler puts his hand on my shoulder, looking into my eyes. His slate-grey irises reflect mine. “He’s keeping us alive for a reason. He won’t kill us. Not when the King wants Aurelians alive. We’re still on a mission. We’re going to get the information and get out.”
The sound of thumping boots echoes through the hallway. We turn as one, fanning out into a fighting formation, the three of us tense and ready.
Reg listens carefully. “Bullfrogs. Two of them. And something else. Something small.”
A woman strides in front of our cages, keeping her eyes down, but she can’t help but glance up and stare at Wheeler’s physique. The three of us are seven-footers, and I could lift her up with a single finger. The two Bullfrogs behind her have blank expressions. Big beasts, at least eight feet tall each, massive creatures with dull green skin taut to the limit against their muscle and fat. Their broad faces are emotionless. They’re just doing their job.
The two of them are empty handed. We could overpower them.
I tense up. The second the doors open, I’ll rush out and slam my fist into the biggest one’s head. I’ve fought Bullfrogs before. They’re huge, but they fall hard. The tough hide of the creature will be our biggest problem. Without an Orb-Blade to cut through them, it’s going to be a long fight.
“They don’t have weapons because we’re valuable alive,” telepaths Reg. “But there must be more of them out of sight.”
“Back up,” grunts one. “Back against wall.”
“Do it,” telepaths Wheeler. We stand with our backs to the wall, and one Bullfrog fiddles with a panel on the wall across from us. I keep my focus on it, watching as he presses buttons in a quick combination, then grunts to the other one. The second Bullfrog unlatches the cell door, opening it, and the blonde walks through. She comes willingly.
She’s wearing a sheer yellow dress so thin I can see the pink of her nipples. She strides in and meets my eyes, submissive yet challenging, aching to be tamed.
“A gift. Fight well tonight. You get your pick of prize,” slurs the Bullfrog in broken Common.
“Who are we fighting?” asks Reg in perfect Toad.
The Bullfrog just snorts, shutting the cell door while his partner turns the electricity back on.
I breathe in, tasting her. She’s aroused. Aching for it. I always thought we’d smell that scent when we were done with our years, letting women flock to us to join our harem. I thought of it as the reward after a century of violence.
But when I breathe in…
I feel nothing.
“Where are we?” I ask, trying to get information. She walks forward, running her hand under my shirt, feeling my abs. She lets out a little moan when she feels the hard ridges of my body, and I know it’s not an act.
I should be aching for her. I should have grabbed her and thrown her into the bedroom by now, claiming her.
Something feels off.
“We can talk after I take care of you,” she says sweetly, biting her lip nervously.
“We don’t follow the Old Ways. We don’t take women.” Wheeler’s got confusion in his aura, too.
A willing, aroused woman comes to us and it doesn’t trigger the Mating Rage at all?
We wouldn’t claim her. Not if she’s owned by a Toad, sent her as a gift. That means she has no choice in the matter.
But it shouldn’t be easy. It should be the hardest thing in the world to fight back for control.
“You’re not taking me. I’m giving myself to you. Lord Reedok says any woman Bonded to you gets her freedom,” she says, her hands trailing down to the band of my shorts. I grab her wrist.
“Slavers get promotions for bringing a triad in. Now this Lord wants us Bonded. Why?” Reg telepaths the question, getting the strands of information together as he figures it out. He’s always seen the big picture.
I follow my instincts.
My instincts told me to chase the slave ship. Now they’re telling me that something is off. I should have lost myself to lust. I should be in the bedroom, my cock deep in her, making her scream out in ecstasy.
“No.” I say the single word, and fear and confusion flashes in her mind. She’s probably got it in her head that all Aurelians are sex-crazed maniacs, ready to snap at every second.
She would have been right, a week ago.
“Please…if I don’t…if you reject me, he’ll sell me to the brothels. It’s okay if we’re not Bonded. Just for sleeping with you, he’ll let me be a hairdresser. That’s what I used to be, before…” She trails off, her eyes wet and nervous.
I don’t understand what’s going on.
All I know is I want to kill this Lord Reedok for what he’s done to this poor woman.
Reg grips his cock, stroking, bringing it to life, and the fear disappears from her eyes in a second. “Come with me,” he says, taking her by the hand and leading her into the bedroom.
I follow—but I’ve never been so confused in my life.
Why isn’t the Mating Rage boiling up in my balls?
Why don’t I want to push this woman down and breed her hard and fast?