Also available from Pride Publishing:
Alien Slave Masters: The Rebellious Pet
Samantha Cayto
Excerpt
Chapter One
Joel Porter owed his father a debt of gratitude. The son of a bitch had done one thing right for his only child. He’d taught him how to hide his fear. As Joel walked through the Travian space station, he kept up his mask of indifference, even though his heart raced and sweat trickled down his back. The place was huge, cavernous with a mile-high ceiling, ringed all the way up with corridors. Every meter of the docking bay and beyond teemed with people. No, not people. Aliens. And not only Travians, although most were, but other creatures that defied his imagination. How had his own race of humans ever managed to miss discovering the variety of life existing beyond their backwater galaxy?
Even though he wore clothing for the first time in what seemed like forever, he felt far more exposed than he had while naked aboard ship. Back there, nobody paid any attention to him. He’d been one of a dozen human slaves milling about, something the crew had become used to seeing. He’d belonged to Firth, too, a senior officer respected and even feared. No one had dared bother Joel. Here, as he walked next to the floating stretcher carrying Firth to the infirmary, just about everyone they encountered studied Joel as if he were a bug in a jar. They stopped and stared and even leered at him, his species having never stepped foot in this part of space before.
Joel wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of showing how afraid their attention made him. He wanted to drop his gaze and shrink away. Pride alone stopped him. Weakness, once shown, was a liability that couldn’t be easily erased. So he stood with his spine straight, looking ahead and pretending he didn’t notice any of them. He felt a tug on the leash attached to the hated collar around his neck. Back on the ship, he’d been allowed to wander around without it. Not here.
He looked down at the male nominally holding him close to the stretcher by the tether. Firth looked back at him with a tight smile. His eyes conveyed that he knew how uncomfortable Joel was and wanted to reassure him. Joel hated being on the receiving end of any kind of sympathy. That the alien understood him well enough to realize how Joel felt irked him. Unlike his friend, Wid, Joel hadn’t fallen for his master. At best, he and Firth had settled into a kind of uneasy détente—not even friends, yet not exactly enemies, either. And while he didn’t want the alien to feel sorry for him, Joel cared enough about the male to worry about him.
Some serious illness that Joel didn’t understand had taken hold of the guy to a degree that the phenomenal healing waters onboard the ship weren’t enough. He needed treatment that could only be provided by the kind of medical personnel found on a station. Instead of gifting Joel over to another officer, Firth had asked Captain Kell for permission to take Joel along. So, here they were, slowly making their way to the medical facility in the company of what Joel assumed was the Travian equivalent of EMTs. Joel had been excited at the prospect of getting off the ship. Now that he’d arrived on the station, he wasn’t so sure that he wouldn’t have been better off staying behind. At least on the ship, he knew his place. Here, he had no idea what to expect.
The trip took forever—endless halls, right turns, left turns, down open-sided lifts that caused Joel’s stomach to drop, and up moving inclines that threatened to topple him over. Always, aliens swarmed around them. Most were Travian males in their red uniforms. They dwarfed Joel, the average one topping seven feet. At five-ten, Joel felt like a child next to them. But the weirdest thing wasn’t the Travian soldiers. He’d lived with them, after all. It wasn’t even the other aliens, strange as many of them were with nonhumanoid features and skin colors he couldn’t even name. No, the thing that freaked him out was seeing Travian females. They also fascinated him.
Given their rigidly segregated society roles, no females served in the occupying forces on New World Colony Seven or onboard ship. Wid had seen Kell’s wife a few times by hologram and had described her generally, but nothing compared to the reality of it. Very nearly as tall as the males, the Travian females seemed to float around. They moved with such eerie grace. Their flawless movements were even more impressive given the elaborate gowns they wore. The material alone had to weigh a ton. Their hair and makeup matched the complexity of their clothing. Unlike the males’ hair, a few braids here or there weren’t enough. There were dozens of whip-thin ones intricately twisted and twirled in patterns. Beads and baubles were woven in as well. Their ‘face paint’ looked exactly like that—paintings. Not merely simple color enhancements, but stylistic patterns and shapes. How long did it take these creatures to get dressed in the morning?
Because his own mother had died within the first year of colonization, Joel had little experience living with women. He’d rarely seen the women on New World Colony Seven dress up and never in anything fancy. Life had been hard, work endless on the colony, with little time for frivolity. No one had the luxury of having many things that were purely decorative. He was used to practical women, not these colorful creatures that caught and held a man’s eye. Wid had said the Travian females ruled, but Joel found that hard to believe. These females looked like they did nothing other than spend time on their appearance, providing their males with provocative sights. He couldn’t help but turn his head and gape as one female floated by him with her breasts essentially uncovered.
A sharp jerk on his leash forced him to turn back.
“Don’t stare,” Firth admonished in a raspy voice that signaled his failing health.
Seriously? How could Joel not with so much female flesh on display? While he’d been fed a steady diet of Firth’s cock until Kell had rewarded him and the other boys with a choice, Joel had never acquired the taste. He liked girls, always had. It had been forever since he’d seen even a glimpse of female breasts, and as nice as his girlfriend’s had been, they hadn’t looked like that. Still, he didn’t want to upset Firth. The guy looked terrible, shrunken and even paler than the creature normally was. He also didn’t want to disrespect him in front of the other Travians.
“Yes, Master,” he said in a rushed, low tone. God, how he hated calling the alien that.
Firth rewarded his effort at meekness and obedience with another tight smile, not fooled in the least. The travel had been hard on the guy. Joel breathed an inner sigh of relief when they finally entered a room with obvious medical equipment and set Firth up on a stationary platform. Firth’s fingers relaxed their grip on the leash, but of course Joel didn’t try to move away. He stood by the alien’s head, his back to the wall and waited for… He didn’t know what. A male dressed entirely in a dark, skintight uniform fussed over Firth for a while, taking readings, giving him an injection. It seemed to ease Firth a bit as his muscles relaxed and his expression looked less pained.
Joel wondered idly if his days were about to be filled with standing around while the medicos did whatever they needed to do to make Firth well. He also wondered where he’d sleep. On the floor probably. He eyed it critically and figured he’d slept in worse places as a boy. Any time his father had been on a bender, his anger—fueled by alcohol and looking for its favorite punching bag—Joel had taken off and spent the night anywhere he could find. A sterile floor, hard yet free of vermin, ranked pretty high in comparison. His thoughts short-circuited, however, when the door slid open and he caught sight of another male joining them.
Words inside his brain fled, replaced by compelling images that registered in flashes of awareness. Large. Very large, tall and broad. Authority striding in on two long and massive legs. A face with strong, masculine lines framed with inky-black hair tied back in braids at each temple. Dark eyes that pierced Joel with a ‘don’t fuck with me’ expression before dismissing the human pet with a flick of his lashes. In that second when their gazes met, though, fear skittered up Joel’s spine. He instinctively pressed against the wall until he reminded himself that he didn’t show fear, and he forced his body to relax.
The male walked up to Firth’s platform and gave a brief nod. “Engineer Firth, welcome to the station. I’m sorry for the reason behind it, but I have assured High Command that you will receive the best of care here.”
Firth raised his head a fraction to return the salute as best he could.
“Thank you, Commander Arath. Captain Kell asked me to convey his personal regards.”
With his arms clasped behind his back and his legs braced wide, the male, Arath, seemed to loosen up his fierce aura a fraction. “I served as a cadet under Kell. I was very glad to hear that he’d weathered some unpleasantness recently on his ship.”
Joel couldn’t hold back his snort of disgust at the categorization of the mutiny by Kell’s first officer as a mere unpleasantness. All of the humans had suffered under that mutiny and if not for the efforts of their pets, Kell and his loyal crew wouldn’t have survived. And yet Joel still wore a freaking collar around his neck.
The only reason he wasn’t standing there stark naked was because of the females on the station. Firth had said it would be improper for Joel to walk around with his dick swinging in mixed company. The sort of clingy lounge wear he’d been given hardly constituted clothing in his mind. He wanted to be home, on Seven, back with his girlfriend, Dawn, if she hadn’t hooked up with someone else in his absence. Instead he stood here like part of the furniture.
Except his rude noise had been heard and although he couldn’t see Firth’s reaction, Arath nailed him with another look that threatened to turn Joel’s guts to water. Before the alien could issue any kind of admonishment—if he’d even intended to—the door slid open once more.
A female glided in, wearing a dress so elaborate that it practically had its own identity. If she’d stopped walking and the dress had kept on going without her, Joel wouldn’t have been surprised. Made of fabric in various hues of blue, the gown had a stiff, low-cut bodice constructed of what appeared to be gems, not fabric. The poofy skirt billowed out around her, dropping all the way past her feet. A long train trailed across the floor in her wake as she passed Arath and came to stand on the other side of Firth’s platform.
Her multi-plaited hair had ribbons and more jewels woven throughout, and it pulled her beautiful face back in sharp relief. Her eyes, forehead and cheeks were all heavily made up, painted with designs of blue accented with silver. The makeup was laid on so thickly, he expected it to crack when she smiled down at Firth. Strangest of all was her jewelry—earrings and a necklace that looked to be made of some kind of metal, sharp and seemingly dangerous to be lying against soft skin. It made him think of the porcupines he’d seen once in a zoo back on Earth. How the hell did Travian males cop a hug without impaling themselves?
“Engineer Firth, welcome to Outer Ring Station Twelve. We are humbled to be of service to such a fine warrior.” The female issued her welcome in a melodious voice, soft and sweet, even to Joel’s cynical ears.
Arath took a step closer to the platform on the side Joel stood. He got the feeling the alien intended to box him in. “May I present Governor Lalith,” he said, with his gaze fixed on Firth. Joel wasn’t fooled. He’d been prey often enough at home to know when he was being tracked.
Once again, Firth lifted his head as much as he could and nodded at the governor. “Ma’am, I thank you for your kind hospitality.”
God, all this drawing-room formality made Joel want to roll his eyes. He didn’t dare, for his own sake and for Firth’s.
“We are more than happy to provide the care you need. I would wish you a speedy recovery, but alas, we both know your treatment will be long and arduous. I will say instead that I hope it will ultimately prove successful.”
Wait. What? It sounded like Firth might die. That couldn’t be true. He’d have said something about that, wouldn’t he? Jesus, he might not have fond memories of Firth raping him, but he didn’t want the guy to die. Besides, what would happen to Joel if he did? As if he’d asked the question out loud and called attention to himself, the female turned her gaze toward him. Her expression morphed into something far more familiar to him—distrust with a hint of disgust.
“What is this creature doing here?”
Firth wheezed out a brief cough. “He’s my pet, ma’am. Captain Kell was kind enough to allow me to bring him.”
The female’s eyes raked Joel from head to foot before dismissing him. She bestowed a benevolent smile on Firth, however. “That was very kind of him, I’m sure. Unfortunately, this station is not equipped for the containment of lower life forms kept as pets. It’s a security matter. I’m sure you’ll agree, Commander.” She turned that harsh stare to Arath.
The big guy inclined his head with obvious respect and interestingly, he seemed to dial down the natural menace he exuded. That is, until he swiveled to glare at Joel. Then the “I can snap you like a twig” attitude came roaring back. Once more Joel had to fight to keep himself appearing unfazed. The guy looked as if he were picturing shoving Joel out of an airlock. Holy fuck. Not even when Joel had been a small kid had his father elicited the kind of heart-pounding fear this creature did. He certainly made Firth look like a big, soft teddy bear in comparison.
“Indeed, ma’am. From everything I’ve heard about these humans, they aren’t to be trusted to act rationally. Their continued occupation of our outer world proves that.”
Joel clamped down on his molars to keep from saying anything. Asshole. Seven had been totally uninhabited when his colony had landed. The Travians wanted to kick out the colonists for no purpose, expecting them to go back to Earth. Yeah, like that was even possible.
“I can have security put it in detention until Firth has recovered.”
Joel seethed at being referred as an it, yet realized speaking up wouldn’t do him any good. Fortunately, Firth did it for him.
“If I may, ma’am, my pet is well-trained and has done nothing wrong. I wouldn’t have brought him if I’d realized he’d be locked up.”
Joel shot Firth a look of gratitude, although the commander didn’t appear so convinced. Luckily the male didn’t get to make the decision.
“Hmm,” the governor said. “You are correct. It would be uncivilized to confine the creature without provocation.” She turned to Arath. “Commander, you will take the pet for your own.”
The big guy couldn’t hide his surprise. Even Joel could tell he hadn’t expected her to say such a thing and he didn’t like it.
“Your pardon, ma’am. You wish me to take ownership of the human?”
“Yes. It’s the best solution. Engineer Firth is not in any condition to control his pet or even make use of it.” She turned her gaze to Firth and softened her expression. “I’m sorry. You know your pet is of no use to you during your treatment. It will only get in the way here. Commander Arath is the best choice for taking it.”
The translator inside Joel’s head had no trouble keeping up with the conversation. He understood perfectly well what was being said. It just took a few more seconds for the import of the governor’s words to sink in. He’d been traded off to another Travian, one that didn’t have to adhere to Kell’s edict about gaining consent from his pet.
“No, wait,” he blurted out.
Only Firth paid him any mind. “It’s for the best, boy,” he said in a tired voice. “I was being selfish trying to keep you with me.”
Joel looked down at him with mounting terror. He couldn’t become that monstrous male’s pet. “Please,” he pleaded in a low voice that made his pride cringe. “I won’t cause any trouble. I’ll just hang out here, in the corner. No one will have to worry about tripping over me. I promise.”
Firth sighed. “Not my decision, pet.”
Joel saw resignation in the male’s eyes. And he became aware that the governor and commander had been conducting their own sidebar over the ruling. The female, of course, had prevailed. Women speak and men obey, according to Wid. The evidence lay before Joel in Arath’s expression. He looked furious, but he nodded at the governor in acquiescence.
“As you say, ma’am. I will ensure it behaves.”
“Excellent.” The smile she shot him appeared genuine, as if she couldn’t tell the effect she’d had on everyone else in the room. Or, she simply didn’t care. “Good day, gentlemen.” With a brief nod, she floated out of the room.
Silence filled her wake for a few seconds before Arath strode the few steps necessary to extract the leash from Firth’s lax hand.
“We will leave you to your rest, Firth.”
The older male released his slight hold on the leash. He didn’t look at Joel when he said, “So long, pet. Be good for your new master.”
That was it? After the time they’d spent together in such intimate ways, all Joel got was that brief send-off? He didn’t have time to work up too much outrage or even analyze why in the hell he’d care. A yank on his collar propelled him forward to keep up with the commander. As he picked up his pace to prevent himself from being choked, Joel felt the familiar fear well up inside him. Where was this alien taking him and what would happen when they reached their destination?