Page 20 of Sold to the Alien Smugglers

If Ling was alive, she’ddosomething. Ling would probably have killed those three Toads by now and gotten us free. I’ll never be like my old mentor – my best friend – but I still wish I had even a fraction of her courage and audacity.

But then a chill washes over me. Even Ling couldn’t beat the odds forever.

Perhaps, out of the two of us, she was the lucky one. Her death spared her from this fate.

The Toad in the lead suddenly grunts and stops. His stance widens – like he’s suddenly ready for a fight.

His halt was so dramatic, I nearly walked right into Tessa’s back – and the woman behind does exactly that, bumping into me and almost knocking me off my feet.

I steady myself and crane my head around Tessa to see what caused the sudden, dramatic interruption.

Oh, Gods!

Standing before the leader of the Toads areAurelians.

Aurelians? Here?

Should I be happy? Or terrified?

Aurelians are the polar opposite of the greedy, ugly Toads. They’re noble, where Toads are craven. They’re fearless, where Toads cower and squirm. They’re honorable, where Toads would betray their own spawn-brethren for a scrap of lucre.

Three of them stand there – their pure, ivory skin such a contrast of beauty within this evil swamp. I’m not sure why they’re here – but, for a moment, they’ve rendered me incapable of processing such a question anyway.

The three of them look like the statues of Greek Gods from Old-Earth. The three of them stand stock-still, as if they were chiseled out of marble to represent the ideal of masculine perfection. Seven-feet-tall, with body-builder physiques, and their bodies so lean that the grains of their swollen muscles are visible through that alabaster skin.

I gasp. What they say about Aurelians is true. They’re stunning. Compared to humanity, this warrior species is populated by Gods…

…although, if the rumors are true, they have the ego and pride to match.

I stare in disbelief at the sight of the three Aurelians. I thought they were sworn to protect the humans who lived under their Empire’s ‘protection.’

But, if that’s the case – why are they here?

The moment I’d seen the Aurelians, hope had swelled inside me. Now, it suddenly drops.

I feel like I got to the fiftieth floor of a skyscraper - and then suddenly the cables of the elevator were cut. My stomach plunges, and my knees nearly give way.

If this triad of Aurelians is on a Toad ship, it can only mean one thing – that these three are Rogue Aurelians. If that’s the case, then all bets are off. Rogue Aurelians don’t respect the rules of the Empire, or the standards of basic morality. If they’re working with Toad slavers, it means they view human women asproperty.It means they probably have a vast harem of leashed women in their own quarters; forced to serve their endless needs.

If these three Aurelians are here, it means they won’t save us.

The Aurelians stand three abreast, in the traditional stance of a full battle triad.

All Aurelians operate within a triad – the three of them connected through a psychic link even more powerful than blood relation. I’ve read enough scandalous articles to know that Aurelians do everything together as a triad – wage war, conduct business, and even fuck all the women in their shared harem – forcing those poor little things to take them one-by-one, or all at once.

I can’t understand why women flock to join Aurelian harems in such numbers, knowing that. How could any self-respecting woman volunteer herself to submit to the dominance of a brutal, misogynistic warrior species? Aurelians are all haughty and arrogant, as if they almost believe the hushed whispers comparing them to Gods.

My mind is suddenly filled with the image of a poor, naked woman – caught helplessly between three huge, voracious Aurelians. This brutish triad take her all together – one of them rutting her from behind, while her mouth is stretched full by the second Aurelian’s massive cock. I shudder at the filthy thought.

It’s difficult to imagine that even that debauchery isn’t enough for some Aurelians – the ones who go Rogue. Those who embrace the Old Ways take a sick pleasure inowningwomen. They turn women into their property – showing them off, parading them like livestock, and punishing them harshly when they don’t serve their masters eagerly enough.

The three towering figures looming over the Toads right now are Rogue Aurelians – there’s no other explanation. They stand there, in the mothership of their mortal enemies, without a trace of fear on their hard-lined, masculine faces.

The three of them wear light armor over what looks like workout clothing – tight shirts that cling to their rippling, sinewy muscles, and tight pants that bulge from something I don’t even want tothinkabout.

The armor on top is thin and black – covering only their most vital vulnerabilities, making it smaller than the workout clothes worn underneath. The cynical side of me suspects this armor was designed more to show off the wearer’s physique than offer any practical protection.

All three of them sport nearly identical buzz cuts.

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