Ensnared Bride
Enslaved Earthling Monica just wants to get through another day without being punished by her alien masters. When the warlord Javintore comes to visit Monica is tricked into helping with an assassination plot. Now she could face execution for her alleged crime.Javintore decides to claim Monica rather than have her killed. He’s intrigued by this pretty human slave who dared to try to kill a Hax-Rah warlord.
Monica fears she’s gone from a bad situation to a worse one. Hax-Rah warlords are notorious, and she’s already gotten on Javintore’s bad side. By the author of Indentured Bride!
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Excerpt ~
“By my clock you should have 36 cores done,” Ducra said to Monica in perfect English. The alien overseer dumped the slave’s pile of pink luminescent saccus nut cores off the metal plate she’d piled them on.
Monica continued struggling to remove the core she was working on without rupturing it (a ruptured core was a tr’sark zap). She didn’t know how many were on the plate. Each one she fell short of her quota was a zap.
“…thirty-three, thirty-four…” Ducra put the last core back on the plate. “Thirty-five.” The alien’s pale yellow eyes narrowed at her.
She gave a final gentle tug on her nut and the core popped free. Monica’s chest heaved with rapid breaths. Her thundering heart felt like it was going to erupt from her chest.
Ducra took the final core and placed it in her collection bag. “Thirty-six.”
Oh thank God!
Fortunately Ducra wasn’t one of Monica’s crueler masters, who would shock her anyway just for fun. The red and purple hued alien seemed to see doling punishments as just another chore.
“Empty your waste bucket before you go to sleep,” Ducra said. She placed Monica’s paper-wrapped food ration on her workstation and filled her metal pitcher with water. “Keep the stink down. We have visitors coming.”
“Yes, serat,” Monica said with her head bowed. She waited for the alien to move on to the slave next to her before snatching the bundle.
Monica gobbled what she assumed to be a clump of soggy ground beef. She downed the liter of tepid water with loud gulps. Once her thirst and hunger pains had been seen to she gathered the bucket she defecated in.
The other two women in her small work area didn’t earn any shocks. Monica let her tightened shoulder muscles slacken when she heard Ducra exit the room.
She brought her bucket to the sewer hole across the concrete floor. Another slave, Emory, came beside her to dump hers also.
“Visitors, huh?” The bony blond woman in her fifties tipped her bucket into the hole. The stench that repelled upwards no longer bothered Monica. “Maybe it’s the Alliance?”
“Why do you get your hopes up?” Monica said.
She took her empty bucket back to her station. The cot behind her work stool was only half the length of her 5’ 6” body. She had to curl her knees to her stomach in order to fit.
Nine days without a zap. Monica drew a deep breath of air into her slender frame. Keep it going. You may never have to feel that pain ever again. The pitiful hope didn’t raise her spirits, but at least it kept her from sinking any lower.
She imagined herself swimming in an Olympic-sized pool until she drifted to sleep.
Hours later high-pitched alien voices worked their way into her dream. She squinted in a state of half-wakefulness trying to make sense of the noise. Then something touched her hand.
Monica jolted awake. Hovering over her cot were two tall pale green aliens with grotesquely long faces and glistening black eyes. Panic seized her at once, but then her morning amnesia faded. She remembered that she lived in a world where weird aliens were plausible.
The beings, clad in long gray gowns with long arms jutting from draping sleeves, spoke to each other in high-pitched noises that seemed to echo from inside their own mouths.
Monica stared at them, huddled against the wall. They’d pushed aside her work table to get to her. These must have been the visitors Ducra mentioned.
“Let me taste your skin.”
Monica’s eyes widened. The alien switched seamlessly to English.
“Don’t!” A sick thud of horror hit the bottom of her stomach.
The bald alien scowled. “It won’t hurt.” Its gangly arm lowered to clutch her wrist. An impossibly long tongue fell out of its mouth. The tip moistened her palm and then withdrew. It let her go to resume its chatter with the other alien. Monica assumed it was reporting what it had tasted.
“Good friends,” Ducra said from behind them.
They both turned and their gowns separated enough for Monica to see past them. Ducra was wearing a flouncy red dress, something that had belonged to an Earthling at some point. It fit her bulky muscles poorly.
“May I present the Mek-lord, Javintore.”
She stepped aside to reveal a towering Hax-Rah male, clad in a black shoulder mantle, a black cowl which hid his eyes, and low black pants that strained to hold bulging leg muscles. The rest of his red/purple flesh was bare. Monica’s eyes absorbed the regal nose, lips, and chin left exposed by the cowl, and then dripped down to thick muscular pectorals capped with dark pink nipples. From there her gaze lowered to his bare torso, catching the definition of his abs. She stopped at his low waste band, which had the darkening of pubic hair. The sides of his groin muscles made a V shape over his hips.
Unnggghh.
She realized he was the first pleasant sight she’d seen in the last ten years. The vision stirred up feelings she scarcely recognized. She thought her body had been long dead to desire. Years of torture made sex the furthest thing from her thoughts.
“Wonderful,” one of the greenish aliens said. “There is no chance the Alliance is aware of your presence?”
“Well,” Ducra said, “we had to make up an excuse for a ship as large as his being in orbit. We said he’s picking up energy cores for the robots. They’ve no idea why he’s really here. These underground bunkers are the perfect place for a meeting. The Alliance doesn’t even know they exist.”
“Let’s hurry up, all the same.” This was Javintore. “I have a mission to get to.” His voice was baritone and husky, sending electricity down her spine with every word.
“Come.” Ducra led the Mek-lord and the greenish aliens into the next room.
Monica allowed herself a pleasurable shudder. She was now glad the disgusting aliens had woken her, despite still needing several more hours of sleep. She quickly faded back into oblivion.
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