Page 18 of Sold to the Alien Smugglers

My eyes widen – both at the horrific countenance of this new arrival, and at that electro-rod.

Gods, I hate those weapons. They’re made from razor-sharp, serrated carbo-steel – which would make them deadly enough. That’s how Ling had spent her last few moment – skewered on a blade just like this one.

The first Toad didn’t get the blade – but he did get what followed: Thousands of volts that left him limp and twitching.

This third Toad isn’t just scary because he’s so much bigger than the other two – or that he’s clutching that lethal electro-rod. It’s the fact that he looks at all us women without lust in his bulbous eyes. This Toad is interested in something more strategic than just emptying his balls into an unwilling human slave. That makes him smart, disciplined – and dangerous.

The Toad reaches gangly, dripping fingers toward my face. I turn away in revulsion – cringing as I imagine what it’ll be like to feel the cold, slimy touch…

…instead, with a gurgle, the Toad reached right past my head. Instead, he presses a button on the moss-cover wall, and suddenly my cuffed hands are released from the wall.

Not just mine – mine, and those of all the other women hanging in this swilling, humid room.

All twelve of us fall forward.

My hands are restrained, and I have no way to break my fall. I splash into the water, but it’s not deep enough to cushion my impact. My cheek smacks against the ground, and as I emerge from the water my head is ringing yet again.

I spit out the brackish water, desperately trying to cling to consciousness. My head is pounding – but if I black out, I’ll drown.

I splutter desperately for air, trying vainly to catch my breath. Instead, I gag as I taste the disgusting water on my lips.

The Toad snaps his fingers at the two others, and together they grab the long rope of chain that fell from the ceiling the same time our wrists did. I realize that single length of chain is snaked through each of our cuffs – connecting all of us.

The Toads yank the chain, and are strong enough to effortlessly pull all us women up from the water at once.

All twelve of us captured women are dragged up off the ground, and then we’re sent stumbling forward through the water as the leader of the Toad tugs on the connected metal chain.

We’re powerless to resist. The water sloshes between my feet as I steady myself.

Tessa is still to my right – and now, to my left, is a terrified young woman who is still unsteady on her feet.

Hell, we all look scared, but her knees are literally knocking together as she shudders in terror.

The leader of the Toad yanks the chain, and we’ve got no choice but to trudge out in single file – wading through the water towards the door.

The Toad with the electro-rod waves the barbed spear at us, but there’s no sadism in his cold eyes. He has a job to do.

My feet slosh through the water. I glance down and shudder as I see fat little tadpoles swimming between our ankles. The stench of the fetid water makes me gag. It’s not a rotten scent – it’s the opposite, in fact: A disgusting, fertile smell like growing mold and bacteria; one that attacks your nostrils and makes your skin crawl.

All around us, flies and mosquitos buzz through the air. That same fat mosquito buzzes toward me, and I jump as the leader of the Toads shoots out his long, pink tongue and snatches the bug right out of the air.

I grimace as the Toad gulps the bug down – the mosquito’s spindly legs sticking out from between his flabby lips until he swallows the last of it; slurping the legs into his mouth like a regular person might do spaghetti.

That’s disgusting enough – but it’s the tadpoles swimming between my feet that make this all the worse. I know Toads are hermaphroditic – and, unlike the all-male Aurelian race, they don’t require human females to reproduce.

At least the Aurelians have that to defend their obsession with human women – since all Aurelians seek that single, biologically compatible woman in the universe that can bear them their naturally sired sons.

You can perhaps have some understanding for a species that’s very existence relies on such things.

But Toads? They have no such compulsion. Toads justenjoythe power of terrorizing human women and exerting their control. They have many animal urges, and the need to empty their swollen balls into sobbing human slaves is just one of them.

As I stumble forward, I ache to pull up the remains of my ripped clothes – to cover up my shameful nudity, and the glistening handprints that remain on my flesh. They’re like a brand – marking me as the victim of a Toad’s squirming, inquisitive fingers.

With my hands cuffed, however, I’m helpless to do even that. My cheeks burn. I feel so exposed – so vulnerable.

I’ve heard that Aurelians can turn feral with the sight of a naked female’s breasts – descending into a mating rage that turns them into more animal than man.

Even if Toads don’t suffer that same mating rage, it’s still humiliating to be paraded around with my breasts swinging free; and there’s no doubt I’m going to draw a lot of attention with my nakedness.

---