Caged with the Alien Gladiators by Corin Cain
Jacky
Ihate how helpless I feel as I stand in the row.
Every one of us is dressed in something sheer. Some are more dolled up than others, preened to catch the eyes of Aurelians, while others keep their heads down, shivering with nervousness.
As I survey the row of women in dresses that leave nothing to the imagination, I realize it’s not just that we’re all women.
We’re all between the ages of twenty and forty.
Exactly what an Aurelian would want.
We were brought here specifically to be prizes for the triad.
A decade of hard work. A decade of aching hands and burning backs, of waking up after four or five hours of sleep and forcing myself out of bed.
All of that. Everything I am, everything I hoped and dreamed, reduced to a piece of meat to a hungry triad of brutal beasts. They won’t care about what’s in my mind.
All they’ll care about is the innocence between my legs. They’ll rip me apart and throw me out.
Tears come to my eyes, but Kay just grazes my arm, and I meet her eyes.
I stand up straighter. No matter what happens, I’m not going to break.
There’s a squelch as a second Toad rounds the back corner holding a cattle prod. He brandishes it, activating it with glee. Electricity arcs out, sparking and vicious. The woman with the misfortune to be at the end of the row shrieks and jumps forward, dodging the painful shock.
The Toad laughs, and I curl my hand into a fist, wishing I’d asked Kay to help me make a weapon. It wouldn’t do anything against a seven-foot-tall Aurelian, but maybe I could gouge the eyes out of a sick, twisted Toad.
The Toad in the lead starts walking, and there’s nothing we can do but follow in a trudging line. If we all rose at once, maybe we’d have a chance. We could overpower them. Take their weapons. Make a mad dash to the landing strip.
No one wants to make the first move and get electrocuted for it.
We go to the end of the hallway and through a set of doors, then down a staircase through an entryway and into the grand entrance hall. The tall ceiling seems to go up forever, and the archway to the outside world is big enough to pilot a ship into. The front side of the huge hall has wide open doors, yawning to the outside world, with rows of tropical trees lining the pathway out.
Freedom. The only way out of this place.
Ships take off, and I wish desperately I was on one. I always watched ships flying away when I was working horrible jobs, dreaming of the time it would be me.
I never thought I could want to escape more than I did when I was working dead-end jobs. Now I know the true meaning of captivity.
I fight back disgust as I wade through two inches of water against my bare feet, hiking my dress up. Tadpoles writhe in the turbid waters, trying to nibble at our toes, and I watch a fat, darker green one gobble a small white one up. I fight back vomit and kick, sending them scurrying away.
Toad guards lounge around. There’s two on each side of the huge doorways leading out. I hate looking at them, but I force myself to notice the mismatched armor. Two have curved knifes, two have rifles.
They turn away from their post to ogle us, warbling and gurgling like some strange mating call. I tear my eyes away, staring straight forward. “When Aurelians done with you, Malaga take a turn!” One of them laughs, then pats himself on the belly, pleased with his joke. The woman behind me sobs.
I grit my teeth and keep walking.
Up another set of stairs and into a back hallway. I keep a mental map as best as I can, but the inside of the palace is confusing. I like being higher up. The lower we get, the more the murky water pools. There’s a big set of doors in front of us that the lead Toad scans his watch against, and they open onto a massive stage.
It’s higher class than the rest of the palace. The floor looks like black marble. Wood would warp in such humidity. There’s a thin haze like a sauna, and my dress clings to me as I walk in. At the other end of the stage is a beautiful blonde, her hair done up in a hive of curls that looks like it took an hour to prepare.
“Hurry!” grunts the lead Toad, not wanting to let all the humidity seep out.
I hear the spark of the cattle prod from the back and the shriek of a woman who couldn’t move fast enough, and I swear to myself I’ll get vengeance against my captors.
No. Don’t think of vengeance. Think only of getting free. Nothing else matters. Nothing else matters.
I keep repeating that last phrase in my head. I need to believe it. I need to believe I’m not going to die on this horrid planet or I’ll lose all hope. We trudge in, standing in a long row as the doors hiss shut, sealing us in.
The stage is in front of a mass of wide seats built for the bulk of Toads. Front and center is a raised dais with a throne made of glittering gold and marble worked together. On it sits the Toad who must own this palace.
Lord Reedok.
He’s wearing a loincloth made of gold thread, with a vest that can’t clasp shut over his distended belly. The vest is made of the same fine material, with two red gems over his nipples.
Two huge Bullfrogs stand behind him, the biggest I’ve ever seen. They’ve got massive battle-axes strapped to their backs, but in their hands they carry rifles, and these two aren’t slacking off like the Toad guards.
There’s a gleam coming from the side of their rifles.
Orbs.
Those weapons cost a fortune. These are elite bodyguards, using the rare weapons that only Aurelians know how to forge.
I curse whoever sold weapons to such swine.
The disgusting Toad looks from one end of the row to the other as we stand in front of him, presented to the alien. My dress sticks to me as I sweat. I’ve never wanted a shower more, not even after working fourteen hours in a dish pit.
“I gave you orders to look pretty. I see some of you were more successful than others,” he says as he appraises us. “No matter. See her? What’s your name again, woman?”
The blonde smiles, seemingly not noticing the condescension in the Toad’s tone. “Melissa, sir.”
“Melissa was a prisoner like you. Now she’s a hair-fixer. If you’re chosen by the Aurelians, you get to do any job you like. If you’re Bonded to the Aurelians, you’ll have riches beyond your dreams.” He pauses for a moment. “If they don’t pick you in two weeks. You’ll be sold to the brothels and I’ll buy a new batch.”
A gasp goes through the line. We look up and down the row at each, and the atmosphere chills despite the heat.
Before?
Being chosen was a possibility. I know some of the thirty wanted it, hoping to get the protection of the alien species. To others, it was a terrifying thought.
Now?
Being chosen is survival.
The woman two down from me pinches her own nipples, hardening them into visible points under the sheer material. Others stand differently—some with their hands on their hips, challenging, others meek and submissive, but the change is instant. Each of us is thinking of ourselves through the eyes of that brutal triad…
Because they’re the only way we don’t get thrown into a Toad brothel.
At the other end of the stage is another set of doors. They hiss open, and the Aurelians step through, dripping blood.
They came straight from a battle, and the blood isn’t their own.
“You did good fight! You get choice of prize!” The lead Toad spits the words out, but he hops back, shifting from foot to foot with constant squelches. Mucusy white sweat globs down his forehead. He’s terrified of the triad.
“How eloquently stated,” says Lord Reedok drily. “Pick one, two, three. However many you can handle. Just don’t be too tired, you’ve got another fight tomorrow. I’m putting on a show.”
I freeze. I’m petrified in their presence.
The three alien warriors are wearing only combat pants with a black belt that should have the hilt of their Orb-Blade dangling. They were disarmed or fought bare-handed.
I recognize the Aurelian I saw who stepped out of the bedroom to appraise us. He’s got black hair to his shoulders, and wolf eyes that hunger. His strong jaw is lined with a day or two of black stubble. His muscles bulge, thick and veined, and he doesn’t have an ounce of fat on his chiseled body.
He looks like a berserker, a barbarian god with marble flesh too pale to be a human’s.
I can't stop the heat from flooding between my legs. It’s primal, instinctive. The urge to let this huge, dominant warrior claim me and make me his. The urge to spread my legs wide and feel him own my innocence.
His eyes are so blank and emotionless that when they glance over me, I can’t help but take a step back, intimidated.
I feel the second Toad’s wet foot on my back as I’m kicked forward, stumbling and falling to my feet. Toads have strong legs, and I’m winded from behind, gasping on the ground.
The Aurelian moves so fast I can’t track it. Before I can stand, he’s moved.
One second the Toad is gurgling and laughing, enjoying humiliating me with a kick. The second, his cattle-prod is down his throat. The Aurelian kicks the Toad who stumbles back, gurgling his last breath as the cattle prod activates, electrifying him and frying his brain. There’s a sickening smell of burnt meat and the Aurelian reaches down to help me up.
His eyes lock onto mine, and I’m frozen.
Two beams of energy blast out before I can take his hand, and my head whips to the left, breaking out the spell of the alien’s eyes as I see the two Bullfrogs pointing their rifles at us. They are crouched, balancing the weapons on their knees as they aim straight for us.
The Aurelian snarls, not cowed by the beams, and wraps his huge fingers around my forearm as he pulls me up. “Her. I pick her,” he states, and his nostrils flare, breathing in my scent as our skin touches. A tingle shoots through my body as he hefts me up like I’m weightless, so strong he can throw me around with ease.
“Back up!” yells the Toad Lord. The Bullfrogs fire their rifles again, and this time it’s a near-deadly warning, landing so close to us that the Aurelian releases his hold on me, stepping back with a growl. The beams that flash by us are so dark they suck up all the light, so blindingly bright the flash is imprinted on my retinas. The stage is scarred, deep cuts raked into the stone.
The Aurelian barely notices the blasts. His slate grey eyes are glued to me, and he runs his tongue over his lips, but I know he’s imagining running it over my body. I can almost feel his lust. It’s like an energy building up, focused in on me.
“That’s enough,” the Toad Lord says coldly. “Your species is prone to fits of temper, so I will excuse your outburst. Once. Do that again and I’ll cut off one of your arms. Take your woman, and go, before you get on my nerves.”
Your woman. I shudder. He’s speaking like the Aurelians own me. I can’t look away, the warrior’s eyes holding me captive. My body trembles.
I step back, trying to disappear in the row of women, but there’s no hiding from the triad. Kay is looking the brutal Aurelian up and down with a kind of respect mingled with wariness. She likes how quickly they dealt with the Toad who kicked me. My back is going to have a big bruise—if I survive the brutal mating of the warrior species.
The other two Aurelians of the triad step forward. One, with a bullet wound on his chest, pulls the angry beast away from us. He mutters something low under his breath, and the angry one nods, scanning the row of women as he looks for a second choice.
I’m not enough for them. They want more.
I don’t know how I know the one with the bullet scar is the leader. It’s just a presence to him, a certainty. He could be lounging back in a deck chair by his pool in Colossus, surrounded by his harem or trapped on a stage with trigger-happy Bullfrogs pointing their rifles at him and he’d have the same aura of nonchalance. He’s got short brown hair, clean-shaven, his eyebrows thick and bushy with eyelashes that make you want to run your fingers over them. If he didn’t have such a broad jaw and hyper-masculine features, he’d almost be pretty.
The third Aurelian is lean and lithe. He’d be gorgeous if it wasn't for the blood dripping down his eight-pack abs. The three of them are devastatingly, distractingly handsome, if you can look past their barbaric natures.
The third strides forward, looking up and down the line with great interest. “We changed our mind. We’ll take a different one. This one smells weak,” he says, motioning to me nonchalantly.
A wave of relief flows through me. I saw how brutal the barbarian was. How he grabbed me, his hand wrapping around my wrist, making me feel so small and helpless. If I was alone with them, he’d rip me apart.
My innocence would have been given as a prize in an off-hand way. The brutal one barely considered me. He picked without thought, almost by instinct, but his battle-brother switched the prize to my great relief.
Relief…
And a tiny edge of disappointment.
A surge of energy slams into me. The lean, lithe Aurelian is petrified, his eyes locking onto my body, wide and confused. His nostrils flare, and he breathes in my scent, and all three of the Aurelian warriors ignore the world as they focus in on me, and only me.