Bride of the Trogarians (11 page)

“An improvement from your primitive conditions.” Ingus Sprang reached for a tray and held it out to Iris. It was loaded with all the delicacies she and Nora enjoyed as pampered trainees of the Acclimation House, baked confections that now seemed almost obscene when she thought of the poor beyond the domes. Iris remembered the bowl of porridge with the sweet little grubs and decided she’d much rather have those than anything offered by this fiendish Traoian.

“No?” he asked, when she refused, and sighed extravagantly. “It’s well enough, I suppose. Perhaps those savages have turned your appetite toward more carnal matters.” He leaned over. “I hear the Trogarians have massive cocks. How many times have they pushed their filthy rods into your pussy? Did you enjoy it?”

When Iris only glared, Ingus Sprang lifted a slippered foot and shoved her so hard she fell over. She rose back to sitting as if he’d just tapped her, and expected worse. But he’d leaned back in his chair and was shrugging.

“I don’t blame you for not wanting to talk about it. Who wants to admit to fucking filthy animals like that?” He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “The good news is that you’ll soon be getting your hot little hole filled again, only by a more exotic clientele. The best thing to ever happen to this planet was the departure of that high-minded Augustus Bron. That meddling old fool with his talk of fairness and respect. Bah!” He sneered down at her. “He seeks to export his special brand of good will to other planets. But he’ll return to find things have changed. Oh, yes. Some of us have had enough of his lofty ideals. Traoians are an exceptional race. We are superior, and it’s time to have leaders who realize this.

“Wealth is the key! Trade! Now that the Odh are out of the way, we will have little competition, and the pleasure house I’m opening will soften more than one prospective partner. Let other civilizations ply visitors with fairness and respect. If true advantage in negotiations is to be had, it’s by through fine drink and willing females. My whores are being prepared to pleasure any male in the federation. And trust me, the needs are as varied as the anatomy.”

He grinned evilly. “Would you like to see an example of the training? We’ve imported males from other planets specifically for these special lessons. The females, like you, are retrieved from similar squalid circumstances all across the galaxy to work as perfumed whores now. You, my dear, will soon learn the skills you’re about to watch.” He clapped his hands, and a door opened.

A raven-haired female alien entered in the company of a shorter bald alien with silver white skin covered in what Iris first thought were tattoos, then realized was the kind of faint patterning one may see on a snake or lizard. The elliptical pupils of his eyes only added to his otherworldliness.

The female looked almost catlike, with her pointed ears and exaggerated eyes. The bald alien male spoke to her, and she turned, her ears pivoting to the sound of his voice as the purple irises of her eyes dilated.

At least, Iris thought with relief, this male was small. But then the alien male grabbed the female and bent her over a nearby chair.

“This is one of our most prized whores, Mika,” Ingus Sprang said. “Watch and learn.”

Iris felt a chill wash over her as the alien tugged at the tie holding his robe together, and it fell away to reveal his body.

His penis was small, a tiny button of a thing. But as he held the female alien, it began to grow, twining toward her waiting pussy like a vine seeking light. It twisted and writhed, a living thing acting independently of its owner. In fact, the alien seemed frozen, his head thrown back, his eyes seemingly unseeing, his hands locked onto his partner’s hips.

She looked back, smirked, and then stared straight ahead. The penis was thrashing excitedly and entered her with a corkscrewing motion. She jolted, but held still, then moaned loudly. Iris could not tell whether the moan was genuine. She could not imagine that it could be. How could any female become excited by such an intrusion? And yet, she could not look away and watched in horrified fascination as the male alien’s member pulsed further into the alien, who was now gyrating her hips.

Ingus Sprang was chuckling now. “I’m sure you’re wondering how she endures it. And I can promise you—it won’t be easy at first. But soon you’ll be as jaded as Mika. And being calm is important, especially with a Karnarian like this fellow. It would do no good to fight, not when he’s this excited.”

Iris glared at Ingus Sprang. “Excited?” she said disgustedly. The alien male remained immobile. “He’s not even moving!”

The trader laughed aloud now. “Oh, him? He’s merely a transport system for the actual thinking part of the anatomy, which is now imbedded inside this delicious little whore I’ve provided him. He’ll poke around in there, explore, have a look… he has eyes, you know. If it was one of his own race, he’d lay a pod that would hatch within her. She’s lucky that he won’t. The female of this species dies when the pod bursts open to deliver the young.” Ingus Sprang giggled now, making a flourish with his hands and mimicking the sound of an explosion. “Kerpow!”

Iris felt bile rise into her throat. She didn’t know what was worse; the sight of this alien female with this… thing inside her, or the fact that the giggling maniac beside her planned to profit from providing humans to creatures like it.

Soon enough it was over, and she sighed with relief. Then dread filled her again when the trader reached over, jerked her chain, and pulled her to within inches of his face. His eyes were glittering.

“I’ve saved the best for last,” he said. “You’ll like this, I think. A little show, just for you.”

He turned and snapped his fingers. Another door opened, and Iris felt her vision fade in and out, like a lightbulb struggling to stay lit. A huge alien walked in, his huge back hunched as he lowered himself to stomp through the door. He was wearing what looked like a crude loincloth over his already jutting cock. His body was covered in wiry dark hair. His brow was heavy and sloping, his eyes mean and stupid. But it was the tusks that made Iris instantly recognize this creature as a member of the race Zios had identified on the historical tapestry as the one that had raped his grandmother.

“He’s Gorlog,” Ingus Sprang said. “And a fine, randy specimen. The Gorlog don’t have much of value other than metal ore, but because we never know if we’ll want mining rights, it’s a good idea to have our human whores trained in how to handle their sexually aggressive advances. And I have found the perfect one.”

The door opened again, and now Iris was on her feet, forgetting that she was tethered. She’d almost reached Nora before the lead at the end of her collar stopped her short. The blonde had fallen coming into the room and now the Gorlog turned, snuffling out his wide nostrils, his tusked mouth curving into a feral smile.

“No!” Iris rounded on Ingus Sprang. “You cannot do this.”

“I can do whatever I want,” he said calmly. “I can have you sent away for rejecting me, and then destroy the Trogarians after they take you in. I can use my power to buy politicians, and soon enough will have enough on my side to guarantee Augustus Bron a cold reception followed by a long-overdue ousting. I can have any human female on this planet that I want, even the ones who didn’t want me.” He paused. “And their best friends.”

Nora looked up, her face a mask of shock as she saw her friend. The Gorlog was moving closer, and Iris reached out, catching Nora’s hand and pulling her close.

“Oh, how touching!” Ingus Sprang was laughing. “And all the more satisfying to see your terror, my dear, when the Gorlog has his way with her.” He paused. “But maybe…”

The Gorlog reached under his loincloth and grabbed his massive cock. He waved it back and forth. “Now. You promise me human.”

“I did. I did…” Ingus Sprang stood. “But if you can wait until tonight, my friend, I can give you both? Would you like that?”

The Gorlog snorted like a bull. “Now.”

“Both,” he said, drawing out the word. “Booooth. If you wait.”

“Both.” The beady eyes squinted under the sloping brow. The Gorlog was considering it. “Yes,” it finally said. “But tonight, you bring.”

“Of course. Of course,” he said. “Go along now. You’ll be fed a good dinner, my gift to you before the evening’s fun.”

The Gorlog lurched back through the door. Ingus Sprang clapped his hands together in glee.

“Yes, much better,” he said, as Iris glared up at him. In her arms, Nora was trembling uncontrollably. “It’s worth the wait for me, too. Tonight I will take both of you, and then I will sit back with you, my dear, as the Gorlog first has his tender way with your friend before having you as dessert.”

He leaned down, grabbing Iris by the back of her hair and jerking her head back. “You will rue the day you ever rejected me. You escaped the justice I had planned for you with the Trogarians. But I have not mistaken the barbarism of the Gorlog. It will thrill me to see the things that once raped the ancestors of your beloved Zios and Utak defile you. No one takes what I wanted!”

He barked for a guard, and Iris and Nora were taken from the main chamber down a sterile hallway and tossed in a room containing only a short bed attached to the wall and a small toilet.

As the door slammed shut, Iris leaned down to check on her friend, who was sitting stunned on the floor.

“Nora,” she said softly. “Nora, look at me.”

It took a moment for the blonde to raise her eyes to her former friend. They were now the eyes of a defeated woman, a woman who’d already experienced more pain and sadness than anyone should.

“Oh, Nora.” Iris wiped away a tear that trailed down a pale cheek. Nora was dressed in what looked like a beggar’s dress, the fabric and cut indicating that it was a garment she’d been given here, a garment designed to mock her social station.

“Iris…”

“Forgive me, Nora. If I’d only known…”

Nora pulled Iris’ hand from her face and turned away. “I hated you for what you did. That hatred sustained me. I blamed you for my lot, but when I was with Kang, the scrapper I was given to, I got a look at the life of the poor on this planet. And I realized everyone outside the domes is at the mercy of those within.” She looked at Iris. “You know, I think you were probably the only one who had the backbone to take a stand.”

Iris scoffed at this. “Had I known what it would cost everyone else, I’d not have done it.”

“That is part of how they control the masses,” Nora said. “If the scrappers don’t make their quota, they find their food rations limited. If one complains, even privately, and another overhears, he finds himself shut out of some of the wrecking fields.”

Iris nodded. “Was your… mate… good to you at least?”

Nora shook her head. “He was angry most of the time. And like any angry male, he took it out on me. I never conceived a child with him, despite his repeated attempts. I’m grateful for that, at least. The only thing worse than the life I had with him would be to have brought a helpless child into it.” She cocked her head. “And what of you?”

Iris swallowed. She didn’t want to tell Nora that she’d found love and protection. But she did not want to lie. In the quiet of the room, she told her friend the story of the Trogarians, of the brothers she’d first feared and then loved, of how they had conquered her both in body and soul, and how sweetly.

“I’m glad, at least, that you found happiness on this rock before you died.” Nora suppressed a sob. “That thing… it will kill us.”

Iris hugged her friend again. They were both trembling now. She wanted to tell Nora that she was wrong, that they would find a way to prevail. But how could she make promises she could not keep? How could she go to her death letting Nora down again?

“Come.” Iris stood and led Nora over to the little bed. Lying down, she cuddled her like one would a child, rubbing Nora’s hair and humming to her as she had hoped to one day hum to the son of Trogar she would bear. The Crone had said she’d bear a son. A tear came to Iris’ eyes. The Crone had been wrong. She’d faced down power, and the powerful were about to win. Zios and Utak and the others would be tried and convicted for a slaughter they did not commit. They’d likely be executed. The Gorlog would kill her as it had killed their grandmother. Their bloodline would be severed.

She thought back to their decision to leave Earth. The Traoians had promised human females a better life with the mate of their choosing after a period of acclimation and training in Traoian culture and wifely skills. The people of Earth had been too willing to believe that they were sending their sisters and daughters to a benevolent planet, the one Augustus Bron had envisioned.

The evening stretched on. They heard noises, voices, activity outside. With each sound with each noise, Iris jumped, and assumed that Ingus Sprang was likely assembling some sort of audience for their death. Nora lay almost catatonic in her arms, paralyzed with fear as they grew closer to the moment when they’d be taken to meet their horrible fate.

The door opened. Iris pulled Nora to her, holding her in a protective embrace. Her friend whimpered. The lights, which had dimmed, brightened. An older Traoian, still large and muscular, his dark hair edged with silver, filled the doorway.

“Your name is Iris?” he asked.

She looked at him. So this was who’d they’d sent to deliver them to Ingus Sprang. She had no need to lie to the question that puzzled her.

“Yes,” she said. “But I beg you. Take me. Just me. Spare my friend. If one must die, let it be me. She does not deserve this.” Her voice was quavering.

The Traoian walked over and knelt. He laid a hand across hers. “You are very brave, little one,” he said. “But no one deserves to die. And no one will, at least not the ones who are innocent.” When she looked at him with questioning eyes, he offered a reassuring smile. “My name is Augustus Bron,” he said. “And I have come to save you.”

Chapter Eleven

It had been the act of honoring the Odh’s last wishes that led to the rescue of Iris, Nora, and the innocent Trogarian council. The Trogarians did not realize that the Odh leader wore a sensor that captured full details of their mission. The dying Odh in the cave had recorded everything from the ambush to the distressed expressions of Zios and Utak when he’d revealed that the Odh delegation had not been a war party but an invited trade delegation.